dianaschnuth

For the first time in a few years, my husband is required to work Sundays during the Christmas season (a.k.a. peak season at his work). My son is upstairs with his Kindle Fire, having some Quiet Time, and I’m sitting on the couch, having just finished today’s (and yesterday’s) #fiveminutefreewrite topics.

I feel like I want to keep writing, but not about any of the backlogged blog topics I have on my list. (And I have dozens.)

I’m reminded of the days before I had a child, when I had hours upon hours of “me” time, and I would choose to use it by writing. (Or playing Civilization for a few hours on end.)

There’s plenty of other things I could be doing right now (my fingers just tried to type “write now”), like replacing the few burnt-out bulbs on the string of vintage Christmas lights, or making a batch of Christmas cookies to freeze for later, or finishing the laundry, or balancing my checkbook… but sitting here on the couch writing about nothing in the silent overcast wintry afternoon dimness is appealing.

It’s so quiet in here.

…

I should really get that laundry folded.

The start and the finish don’t look that different, but I guess that’s kind of the idea of actually keeping up with one’s style and dye job.

I saw something moving out the window as I got ready to step on the bathroom scale this morning. That’s a big dog, I thought — then I realized it was a deer. Right there. Getting ready to nosh on the one hosta in the border along the back of the house.

I watched (and snapped pictures) as it snacked on the hosta, then sniffed at the bench and the tomatoes, and finally wandered out of sight.

By the time I was ready to get my son up for breakfast, the deer was in sight again, this time by the hydrangea tree. I got my son up by telling him to go to his window to see the deer. He was up in a flash.

I was a little extra late to work, but getting to see the deer and share that with my son was worth it. I’m just glad it didn’t eat my tomatoes.

Note to self: Even if only one friend were to show up, it would still be a party worth throwing.

The annual shindig happened over a month ago, but I wanted to be sure to make mention of it here in the blog, since I have a tendency to forget how much fun it is every year. I always stress over it, and worry over whether it’s worth the extra-thorough house-cleaning and the food prep for days and the last-minute RSVPs. The answer is yes. It’s worth it.

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