It seems to me that there's an interesting phenomenon about blogging and, indeed, journaling in general. It's akin to the infernal grocery list; we tend to leave out the things that are the most obvious. How many times have you made your grocery list, checked it twice, walked dazedly around the pretty, brightly lit grocery store, beautiful music lulling you into peaceful aquistition of consumable goods, and just as you find yourself smiling broadly at the cashier as she tells you to have a nice day, you remember. You remember that one thing that was crucial for your comfort of life, the thing that sent you shopping in the first place. The thing that you thought was so obvious, you didn't even bother to write it on your list. And, somehow, standing there at the checkout, you determine that it's easier to just come back later than to push your cart aside, walk to the back of the store and pick up that one last completely necessary thing. I find that I'm kinda like that with my blogging and journaling, too. Surely, I'll remember the hilarious quip Monet threw out, and I'll definitely recall the details of my mother-in-law and her aunt's visit to our house, and I'm sure nothing could make me forget all the things we learned and did and created and said and bought and planted and harvested and fought over and cried over, so, at the end of the day, when I'm sitting in front of the brightly lit screen, beautiful words lulling me into clicking on another link and another and another, my mind draws a blank. I don't write about that visit, or that cute little quip. It seems easier just to do it later, like tomorrow. But, unlike the package of toilet paper that I really should have taken the time to walk to the back of the store to lug home, there really isn't any reminder of those great moments that I miss, no great motivator that makes me sit down and write.
So, in times of bounty, I seem to slack off on my writing and journaling, when I really just need to discipline myself to get it done. I'm always so thankful when I do.
For the past couple of weeks, the bounty has been great. We've been busy with excellent classes, in spite of a very nasty cough that has been holding on for weeks. Last night, we attended the Bohemian Art Club, an informal gathering of friends in different homes where all ages share with each other the creative things they've been doing. I read a piece I wrote about saving Japanese bantams from hypothermia. I'd read it earlier in the day when Bard and I had attended a wonderful writers' retreat at the home of a local poetess.
The visit from my mother-in-law and her aunt, who is my children's great, great aunt, was a wonderful opportunity to extend hospitality. We all pitched in to clean the house and create a charming guest room out of Sweetheart's bedroom. Thanks to the inspiration from A Circle of Quiet, I had some good food in the freezer and was able to make a couple of chicken pot pies for dinner and serve pumpkin roll for breakfast. Sweetheart had a wonderful time cutting fresh flowers from our butterfly garden to make bouquets for the guest room. You can see both the guest room and the bouquets in the collage above, as well as pictures from our trip to the local apple orchard where I buy our yummy apple cider that I freeze for the winter.
We attended Chili Hill for the third year. Chili Hill is held at the home of some good friends of ours who, every year in October, mix up a huge batch of chili in a big cast-iron kettle, and cook it over an open fire, serving it to friends and family from all over the place. This year, we got there in time to enjoy lots of delicious foods (provided by guests--I took Killer Brownies this year) and a nice, long hayride. While I was there, I bought three rabbits from Chili Hill host, Sara--two mini-lops and a brown mini-rex--to go with the rabbits we already have. I use their manure on my gardens, since it's not a hot manure and can be placed directly into the garden. I hope to breed them so that we can have some baby bunnies for a little while and to make a few extra dollars, which I hope to put into a fund to purchase a pair of dogs to breed and family-raise the puppies to fund the kids' future choir trips. We haven't decided on a specific breed yet, so I'm open to suggestions.
See, it's slipping away already. I know there are more things I should write about. I pulled out my Morning Pages journal yesterday and hope to start writing in it again on a daily basis. I can't remember why I stopped, but I did, and it's been too long.
Time slips away so quickly, and next thing you know, you're checking out...and, as my favorite musician, David Wilcox says, "I mean, you're checking out," and you forget what you came in for in the first place, leaving without the most important thing, the thing you knew you needed but didn't bother to write down.
I NEED to bother to write it down. I don't want to forget this bounty.
