And although I have not been blogging them, I have made a record in my journal. And these days were so great and so much fun, that I am now going to type them in for you. Hope you enjoy the recap as much as I enjoyed living it!
April 28, 2008
"Tonight I smell of sap, steak, fire and sunshine. And dirt. Lots of dirt.
"Here's how today went:
-Woke up and made lunch for the love of my life.
-Discovered Rivulet had a nasty looking rash
-Almost took her to the Doc, but opted for the expertise of Dreampacker and Wildbound (who happened to be down) instead.
-talked with DP and WB while WB zoned DP's feet (and I turned a lovely shade of green with envy), after muscle testing to see about Rivulet's rash. (fresh fruits and veggies, less stress, pro-biotics - mom time . . .)
-Helped the kids make "waterfalls" down the driveway.
-Watched WB work Shrek
-Helped the kids make mud in the garden
-Looked away for two seconds and look back to see Rivulet up to the elbows and up to the knees covered in mud!!
-Left Lemur at MRR to play with his cousin and - after hosing off my muddy Rivulet - came home so she could nap.
-Watched Dancing with the Stars and Alvin and the Chipmunks with Lemur after DP brought him back.
-Looked through my scrapbooking stuff (I have a lot of stuff!!!)
- Tried to garden while my kids drew on the driveway with chalk.
-Talked with two ladies from my new ward as they came strolling by.
-Packed up the kids and bought new sandals.
-Went to Nanny's house.
-Worked in the yard for 1.5 hours.
-made steak for dinner
-roasted marshmallows over the bonfire
-came home, put my kids to bed.
-Scratched Muad'Dib's feet as I told him all about my awesome day. The end."
About a day later, I rode the FrontRunner with my mom and my kids and my brother. We went to Salt Lake and back, stopping in Layton on the return to eat at Doug and Emmy's (a super warm cafe where the portions frighten lesser men and ogres). The whole trip (with delays and great conversation) took about four hours. Even with Uno on the train, it was a long trip. We arrived in Ogden just in time for a dust storm, and then went back to Nanny's to wait for Muad'Dib to get off work.
The next day - I think - My father went out of town, but all the extra wood in his backyard needed to be burned before the end of April. So even though there was a forecast of snow, I finished hanging all the pictures in my new place and went to my parents house. There, in the hail and snow, I (with the help of Biscuit) burned the remainder of the wood. While attending the bonfire, I continued to read "Captivating" and explore the inner recesses of my soul. It was both enlightening and a little frightening. Discovering one's own worth - whether it be for the first time or the hundredth time - tends to take one's breath away.
May 2, 2008
"I'm just wandering around the new place today, listless like a great balloon floating in the wind. I'm not sad, instead I am in the introspective state that yields itself so completely to writing.
"The children are playing quietly downstairs while I putter. There are things to do and I simply don't want to do any of them. Normally I love being at home with no car, no contact and no responsibility to time.
"I suppose I am still contented that way . . . so why am I bouncing all around, looking for something to do while also avoiding or ignoring all that I have to do?
"My chin hurts. Perhaps I rested it for too long on my fist.
"Grandma gave me this table so that I could and would write.
"'Here Grandma! Watch me!! With both hands I am plunging into my mood and fishing out my thoughts! Watch them flop crazily on the ground!!'
"Except that my thoughts are more at home on paper than even in my head. Why is that?
"I want to call DreamPacker - but don't know what to say.
"'Please come over so we can talk and perhaps by talking I'll feel more desire to live today with vim and vigor.'?
"I should not even mentally place such responsibility anywhere outside of myself.
Yet I still desire her company.
"I also want to know why WB thinks I'm difficult to muscle test.
"Anyway: long story short:
I feel . . . longing. Longing for a nameless something. I can name it's parts or components but not it. I desire. I long. I wish . . .
It's no wonder so many people assume or accept that they have "depression." Even in a life as marvelous as mine . . . I have days where I long, desire and wish for something that because it is unnameable, logically it must be unreachable." I suppose some then choose to despair because they mistake the longing for lacking. I will no longer make that mistake.
"So I - as always - sign off with no answer. Having simply felt better for writing."