The time off was too short to be therapeutic. But I did walk away from my blog, my email, even my camera for a week. Other than Thrifty Goodness photos yesterday, I’ve not shot a single photo since Boy Wonder’s birthday on the 22nd. Other than a few emails to people who were owed, nary a word was typed. No photos on Christmas (apostasy!), no photos on New Years (that’s for your benefit!), no words, no thoughts, no nothing, baby. Clear minds. Silence.
I’m willing to let that be it.
IZ is not. Any suggestion I might take an indefinite hiatus is met with arched eyebrows, “Uh, that’s not a good idea.” Apparently, some of you aren’t willing to let me quit either. Nudge, nudge, ouch! I have to tell you though, a week away doesn’t seem long enough. But a month wouldn’t seem long enough either; the difference being that if I took a month I wouldn’t come back at all. So, here I am. One foot forward.
What I did do was a whole lot of nothing. I tried to sew once. But the sound of my sewing machine is an alarm going off in the head of Boy Wonder. There is some psychic connection between that machine and my child’s need to barrel up the stairs and ask me a million questions. Questions I can’t answer. Questions that leave me frustrated. Questions that lead to me being a melty mess and wondering exactly where his father might be at this precise moment. I threw in the towel, cleaned up my space, and plopped down in front of etsy. Etsy is my new best friend, just so you know.
I did get some sleep. Considering the days leading up to the holiday this is a good thing. IZ and I also listened to an inordinate amount of back episodes of Law and Order, Cold Case, and Without a Trace. All of which aren’t really shows we regularly watch, so most of it seemed new to us. Occasionally, we would look up from our computers when the voice-over narrator would say, “these are their stories. . .”
IZ: “Have you seen this one?”
Me: “Uh, nope!”
And back to looking at etsy we’d go, listening to the TV in the background. You avoid an amazing amount of gore that way, just sayin’. Ok, so, I went back to etsy. What IZ was looking at, I don’t know—except every once in awhile he’d send me a link to property in Santa Barbara. Like a motion picture with a soundtrack, my mind would go whirling to a moment when I was happy, to a place that keeps me sane. And nothing else compares. Home, home, where I wanted to go.** And these are my stories. Click, click, click, into the wee hours. No words, no pictures. Me and etsy, we’re BFF.
Over coffee one morning, IZ and I had the following conversation:
Me: And while I’m on the subject, can I just say that I hold an unhealthy hatred for those celebrities that have babies and then have perfect bodies 6 weeks later. Hatred I tell you.
IZ: Yeah, well, you need to remember those women spend an inordinate amount of time, not to mention money, in the gym and on “procedures” to get those bodies.
Me: Who has that kind of time???
IZ: Yeah, well, they also don’t have etsy.
Wonder what his point is exactly, she thought sarcastically.
These are my stories. No more, no less. I’m back. I’m putting one size 8.5 foot in front of the other. No promises one of them won’t end up in my mouth, though.
**Clocks–COLDPLAY
The lights go out and I can’t be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Have brought me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead singing
Come out of things unsaid
Shoot an apple off my head and a
Trouble that cant be named
A tiger’s waiting to be tamed singing
You are
You are
Confusion never stops
Closing walls and ticking clocks
Gonna come back and take you home
I could not stop that you now know singing
Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease, singing
You are, you are, you are
You are, you are, you are
And nothing else compares
And nothing else compares
And nothing else compares
You are
You are
Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go
And no promises that your other shoe won’t end up some Dr’s ass, right?
They say home is where your heart is:
I now understand that Nirvana is Santa Barbara with a laptop, enjoying your ocean view while browsing Etsy… just glad I get to be along side. 🙂
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Uh, no comment.
And about the view, ONLY because sand and keyboards don’t mix. And it’s raining today on the beach. And tomorrow. And Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. It’s a deluge of biblical proportions. Remind me to buy in the canyons. 😀 ~W
Welcome back! Glad your break was good. I absolutely adore Etsy — it is truly wonderful. I can’t look too much though or I’ll be bankrupt! 🙂 I enjoy your stories so, please, keep telling them! Happy New Year!
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Heh, I hear you about etsy. I play this little game with myself. I say, “Self, you may not buy anything on etsy until you sell something on etsy.” Then when I do sell something, I say, “Self, go transfer that money right away so that you don’t buy anything on etsy.” Heh. So far, it’s working. But who knows how long I’ll last. 😀 And thank you. I doubt I’ll stop writing–because as my mother was often fond of pointing out when I was a child, “I like the sound of my own voice.” 😀 ~W
We like the sound of your voice too, even when it’s muffled by the size 8.5 in your mouth 🙂
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I enjoy the taste of leather, don’t you? 😀 ~W
I understand speaking through foot-in-mouth very well! You’re coming through loud and clear.
Hmm. Santa Barbara with a laptop… that sounds mighty fine.
We are back safe and sound… Rylie’s baptism was flawless and lovely, though no pictures… but, like you, we’re not really too sad about that.
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Oh, I’m so glad the baptism was a wonderful memory. ~W
You, m’dear, are NOT allowed to disappear. Nope. Not. Nyet. Etc.
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Says the girl who rarely updates her blog. 😀 ~W
Ohhh…love the song…love the band. I haven’t spent enough time on Etsy to declare it a bff as of yet…this is probably a good thing isn’t it? Foot in mouth is OK…as long as the foot wear is beautiful…
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Yeah, it probably is a good thing. 😀 ~W
Welcome back. 🙂 Good to see/hear you.
Etsy… oooh, the pretty things! link after link flies between my house and my daughter’s house. We love the pretty things. so much.
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Heh… I’m constantly sending links via IM to IZ… he’s grown weary of it, I fear. 😀 ~W
I don’t think you should walk away from your blog because it seems therapeutic for you, and certainly is for all of us. It was odd that when I was talking of quitting, my older daughter was horrified. Many friends were as well; I hadn’t realized how many people in my life read and enjoy the blog. It was a heartwarming, but somewhat frightening experience. I am hoping never to visit etsy; I don’t need another obsession!! Las Vegas is full of drunk people, especially youngish men. The taxi driver tried to talk to us about strip clubs and how it doesn’t do him any good because he’s single, and has no one to come back to…etc…Alison was horrified, while Patt and I did everything we could to keep blank faces.
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I think the only thing that could entice me to Las Vegas is Cirque. Otherwise, the whole allure is lost on me. ~W
I go on record as being really good at foot in mouth, I often have both feet in at the same time. It is called putting my mouth in motion before I get my slow old mind in gear. OH Please stay with us we love reading your blog and I look forward to more great photos, the world seen from your camera brings beauty to our lives.
Mom
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I have an end date in mind… it’s not soon. 😀 ~W
I’d spend money on Etsy over a tummy tuck any day. 😀
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It certainly would be less painful, eh? 😀 ~W