Friday, September 28, 2007
I've been away from here for far too long, I know. It's just that I can't seem to make the time to sit down and check in, and when I do decide to try, I am usually shunned by the doorman who apparently doesn't think I'm young, cute and hip enough to get in. No really, it could just be Alzheimer's that makes it impossible for me to remember where I wrote my user-name and password down. It turned up, rather accidentally, recently so I thought I would stop by.
I've been writing like crazy over at Babycenter. They've got this new blog, Momformation, that allows me to post everything myself, without passing across the editor's desk first. I like it.
You can see what I've been up to here.
Today is the first day in weeks where it has actually felt like fall. It's raining and the wind is blowing and it looks as if a thief has come to steal all the golden leaves off the trees in one smooth heist, leaving behind nothing but dark, naked bones.
I am relieved. The extended Indian summer was starting to get to me. It feels kind of like holding the hand of a dying friend. You don't want to let go for fear of losing them forever, yet, you wish they would just get on with it, so you could get on with your life.
That comes off as really insensitive, I know, but, honestly, must it stay so poignantly, tragically beautiful day after day after day? How is one supposed to live their life, to go about their tedious business with all this dying beauty around them?
Esther and Isla love the fall. We raked the leaves into a great big pile the other day with their cousins and they spent close to an hour hurling themselves into it, burying eachother, rolling, leaping and tossing handfuls in the air. I loved seeing Isla learn so quickly from observation what to do. She was a pro. And Esther, emerged from the pile looking like Medusa, haboring a tree's worth of leaves in her hair.
Watching them made me wonder why anyone would waste time, gas and money going to amusement parks and state fairs when so much excitement and contentment can be had right in the back yard. Just call me "sanctimommy." I realize I'm lucky to live here in Vermont. Way lucky.