Don’t know if it’s the time of the year, or all the irons I’ve got in the fire, but I just can’t get it together to say anything interesting lately. I’ve three little kids, a husband still out of work, Houston to prepare for, two paying writing-gigs, my visiting teachers are coming to see me, then I’m going to see my ladies right afterwards. I’ve got carpool and therapy for Beanie and I belong to two quilt guilds. The end of school is fast approaching, and all the business that entails. There are people waiting for paintings and a waiting-list of people I haven’t even gotten too yet. I have more ideas and things to make than I have time or energy. I’m immersed in a book or three, which always takes more time than I mean to give it- I just have no self-discipline, and seek every chance to pick the books back up until they are devoured. I still need to write, too.
Writing calms my soul. It quiets my mind, empties it of the buzzing business that otherwise drives me mad. I need it- and yet my output has been abysmal of late.