Stealing Minutes

Happy Sunday, dear friends! I’m stealing a few minutes while the toddler’s playing. It’s a cool, bright morning and the pumpkin bread in the oven is perfuming the kitchen with cinnamon and nutmeg. Potatoes are boiling on the stove for German potato salad–a friend’s secret family recipe–that we’ll bring to our neighbor’s Ocktoberfest this afternoon. It feels like fall.

Thanks to everyone who hung in there with me this week through the thin, threadbare posts. All of my writing and energy was spent on the actual page. There were some days I didn’t want to hit the publish button because I had so little to offer. But maybe it’s good to see the thin days, the days when time and energy and inspiration are scarce. The days when all you can write is, the cat sat on the mat. The ebb.

Even this morning, during the course of writing this post, I’ve drained the potatoes, chopped the onions and apples and pickles, whisked the dressing, rescued the pumpkin bread just in time, half-cleaned the kitchen, bathed the toddler, fed the cat, discovered two more diapers in the cabinet (hallelujah!), and now to dig out some fall clothes before we head to a birthday party.

I promise myself I’d hit the publish button this morning, and not wait until just before midnight. Wishing you all a beautiful day!

(Post 250 of 365)


1 thought on “Stealing Minutes”

  1. Oh I totally know that feeling of – hit publish now – just finish it, something, anything, or wait? You got so much done. Glad for the documentation of the ebb and what it signified. (Love how you used that in isolation.) Love the buzzing autumn house with the cinnamon perfume air and sweaters coming down off the shelves again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s