Is it just me? When I have a head full of cold and sinus and a weekend full of children's activities I have zero creativity. Nada. Nuthin.
Granted the weekend activities were things such as wrestling kids in and out of car seats and costumes. And with a head full of unmentionables that alone is a challenging task. But it was Halloween weekend with a party, a trunk or treat and the main event.
And I did finish three articles that were due for the Out of the Frying Pan book tour. And study for and teach a Sunday School class. And varnish cabinet doors. And create and make a recipe for The Book Fun Magazine column I write.
Monday night after the trick or treating this grandma crawled into bed slathered in oregano oil and slept like a mummy.
And last night I unapologetically watched television and cleaned hedgehog cages and snuggled with pups who've been feeling neglected. Oh, and I got my oil changed since I was about 2k over the recommended oil change sticker that has been inducing guilt for a few months. The receipt says I received a "pretty girl" discount. Holy moly wonder how many times a feminist has jumped over the counter and punched the cashier/mechanic right in the man bits when that discount appears on her receipt. I'm guessing angry feminists only get the "pretty girl" discount once.
Also, an adult without a child, wending it's way through the child packed trick or treat streets, wearing a creepy costume. At least it wasn't a crazed killer clown, simply possibly the oarsman who silently rows people down the River Styx. Fun times. Fun times.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.