So Much To Blog, So Little Time

I'm running just as fast as my blogging legs will let me and I'm just not keeping up! I want so badly to post pictures and stories about Mr. Golden Curls' end of the year adventures, Lil' Spitfires' last months at home before going to school in the fall, and the fact that the Little Mister is 6 weeks old and doing all kinds of cute baby things. Not to mention the fact that I have an entirely other blog that hasn't seen the light of a blog post in months!

But other things are growing as well, like the stacks of laundry (up to about 2 loads/day) and a dishwasher that needs emptied and re-run once a day. Every surface in this house has turned into a stuff holder and every trash can in the house needs emptied almost daily. It's crazy to think of what my work load was when the Bohemian and I were newlyweds. Laundry was at 2-3 loads per week. Dishwasher, what's that? I did our sink full of dishes by hand but it was a small task. Trash was such a non-issue I don't even remember it being a task and I had so much time to get work done that I did freelance graphics work and there was never a mess of things lying around on any surface.

This week Spitfire is in Texas with cousins and grandparents. Golden Curls is not only in school but going to after school violin rehearsals and it's so quiet. I remember now what it's like to just have the one baby at home. Having nap times where it's so quiet I feel deaf and when I clean something it more or less stays that way. Now it feels so strange. In the fall it will be like this every day. In a way I look forward to it, mostly to knowing that I'll have that time with just the Little Mister, but also knowing I'm not boring Spitfire out of his mind. I think it will be a good way of easing out of this stay-at-home-mom-of-little ones phase of my life and on to the next who-the-hell-knows phase. What an adventure life is.

Blogging Blues

Ugh, my blog writing skills are atrophying with disuse. And since I wasn't overflowing with skills to begin with I'm in trouble! When I was blogging nearly every day my mind was whirring all the time with ideas of what and how to write. Now I sit down every week or so and try to drum up ways to talk about stuff. It's not that there's a lack of stuff, it's just hard to get started! When Mr. Golden Curls starts school next month I'm hoping to move the personal stuff to a new blog and revamp this blog to be all crafting all the time. I'm waiting until then because I don't want to miss out on this last little bit, starting Kindergarten is such a fantastically huge milestone that would be a perfect opener for the new blog, and because then I'll have all of this fantastic free time in which to play to my hearts content. (comments to the contrary are completely unwelcome, I hope to continue with my delusion at least a few weeks into the school year.)

The Bohemian Buffalo

My husband finally collapsed to peer pressure. You can read his new blog, Bohemian Buffalo, here. Lets hope it lasts longer than his first attempt! You can also see a goofy picture of me burnt to a crisp in Florida but proud of our little jewel's new blingin' sparkle paint job.

Mr. John Steinbeck Everybody

So, the other day I was tagged (the blogging equivalent of an email forward for those of you, like myself, who are ignorant in the way of the blog) for the first time. I've seen some tell-us-about-yourself tags but I thought this was a cool one: find the nearest book with atleast 123 pages, find the 5th sentence and post the next three. The closest book was a dictionary so I'll spare you that. The next one was East of Eden by John Steinbeck and it is one of my all time favorite books.

"I don't want to go to California."
"You are my wife," he said softly "I want you to come with me."
She was silent and did not speak of it again.

After doing this one I'm now a little obsessed with this excercise. I keep walking over to the bookshelf to see what other books have to say on page 123. I'm finding that alot of my favorite books sound horribly boring in this context and more than one sounded incredibly vulger, though I know the books on a whole aren't. And some of the worst books I've ever read sounded like literary masterpieces, full of sage wisdom, atleast through those brief three sentences. As interesting as this all has been, just like the forwards I receive in my email, I will not be passing this on.