There is so much I want to write about; to keep track of both for myself and for the kids. I want to remember that the weather this summer couldn't have been more perfect--sunny, low 70's and breezy most of the time--and that the parsley petered out by the beginning of August so next year I need to be sure to harvest and preserve tons in June and July and not give most of it away because I don't know what to do with it all. And I want my kids to know, someday, that I tried the best I could to make all the "right" parenting decisions a hundred times a day but, the truth is, I really have no idea what I'm doing...and neither will they when it's their turn.
But there never seems to be enough time in the day and writing is something that I am still considering a guilty indulgence...not a waste of time, but something that I get to do only when everything else is done...which is, of course, never.
I've grown tired of following John around and reminding him that the bowl of cereal he's eating with cinnamon, raisins, and milk has put him way over his food budget for the day. It's no longer interesting or exciting to calculate the cost of each muffin or piece of pizza. I don't care if I ever eat rice and beans again as long as I live.
I've decided to go back to living off the Fresh Air Fund that Jen once told me about when all we had to live on for 18 months was John's unemployment and a whole lot of faith. It worked back then and I'm going to trust that it will work now.
I have mixed feelings about summer coming to an end. On the one hand, I felt some relief when I realized today that the basil is past harvesting so I don't have to fret about keeping up with it and all of the other fresh produce that has been coming into my kitchen and overwhelming me. On the other, I'll miss being able to go out to the back yard to pick my own fresh food.
And I'll miss walking with the kids down to Dowling to water, pick tomatoes, look for raspberries and worms, and listen to Sissy yell, "Ladies and Gentlemen!" into her onion stalk microphone.
But fall is my very favorite season and there is so much to look forward to--brightly colored leaves, sharing Snacks' excitement at going into first grade, Sissy's very first ballet class, crisp air, cold rain, my birthday, apple picking, fall baking, and Halloween.
My hope is the colder it gets, the more time I'll find to write.