A cup of tea...

    Despite my best intentions, my blog has again been neglected: work has taken a 360 and I've been left somewhere in the dust (can you see me waving?). My supervisor, who is a very good friend, is leaving the facility we work at, moving on to new adventures, and guess who gets to fill in for her in the meantime? Yep. Yours truly. Do you have any idea how much stuff goes into being an activity director???? I didn't either. I don't think I can manage half as well as she has, but I'm going to try my best. It is, after all, the best that I can do.
     Today I have a rare day off, with no plans except grocery shopping and returning overdue library books. I am finding this rather wonderful. True, there are a dozen things I could do today: the living room corners are so cobwebby that the spiders can't find vacancies (though this means I don't have to decorate for Halloween...maybe this isn't so horrible after all...), my little boy's room is so messy I can't find his bed, my bureau is stuffed to bursting, half of the contents fit only for summer, the goldfish would probably appreciate fresh water, but then again being goldfish probably haven't really paid much attention either way....as well I have articles and outlines due, assignments for online classes looming, and right now, I don't care. I am sitting here, visiting with you, with a lemon poppy seed scone from the Second Street bakery and a pot of tea close at hand, perusing emails in between fixing the spacing mistakes here because my cat broke the space bar on my keyboard.Thanks, Momo. The husband and the little boy are away at their respective jobs, the biggest boy still sleeping, and the cat nowhere to be found. All is blissfully quiet and tea-scented.
     How is it we manage to get so caught up in all of the day to day tasks and chores that we fail to do things for ourselves? I love writing. I love writing in my journal, writing poetry and stories, the articles I write for SageWoman, and the posts for this blog. And yet, when I take a good look at everything, what is the first thing that falls by the wayside when I get busy? Writing. It's as though because I don't make a profit from it, nor does it directly benefit my family in a tangible or visible way, it is unimportant. I am reminded by the magickal, inspirational, wonderful SARK that life is all about 'living juicy':



Things have been pretty dry around here. This week, I'm going to try my best to 'bring out my best most magic self.' How about you?

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