rationalize them, understand them thoroughly. After that,
it will be possible for you to sublimate them.
Yesterday was the anniversary of Salvador Dali’s birthday. I meant to post this entry last night, but I ran out of time. Conclave is finished and the last few contributors’ journals will be shipped off this afternoon, but I still feel like I have so many little loose ends to tie up before I can plunge headfirst into the next few projects.
Mark was in Germany last week, and during that time my son had a nasty virus. It was a long week and a bit lonely.
I usually treasure my time alone; I crave it most times. However days spent with a sick, cranky almost-five-year-old and high-energy almost-three-year-old isn’t quite alone time, and I do appreciate some adult interaction during the day–especially in times of stress and lack of sleep, especially over my first cup of coffee. That’s one of the rituals I miss most about working outside the home, in Academia and Corporate America; the morning coffee shared with coworkers is a much nicer way to ease into the day.
So, as much as I have not enjoyed the disruption brought on by construction in our home, last week I found myself wishing for my morning coffee with some of my favorite contractors. When they were around, I knew I could share a cup of coffee and have a quick chat with them before they started their work. I enjoyed hearing about their trades and their lives. I enjoyed starting my day with friendly natter.
On the plus side, I did write a short story last week that I envision as part of a larger collection. I won’t work on it in earnest until I finish S.C., but I have been jotting down copious notes in my Moleskine to keep the ideas fresh. It’ll be a fun project for the summer.
Speaking of summer, the kids only have three weeks until the end of the school year. I think we’ve decided to keep it simple and old-fashioned this summer. We’ll have a trip to Arizona and maybe Wisconsin, but I don’t plan to over-schedule the kids with camps and acitivities. We have this fabulous new yard, and I want us all to enjoy it, to have long summer days exploring, digging, planting, and climbing without worrying about schedules and early mornings.
When I was a kids, summers were about freedom: to play with the neighborhood kids, to read piles of books, to stay up later and sleep in, to watch cartoons I had missed during the school year. Summers were sprinkler-filled, carefree, and creative.
What are some of your most beloved childhood summer memories? I would love to hear them (you see, I’m drinking my morning coffee and pretending you’re here with me, at the kitchen table, chatting).