Tomorrow I'm going to Chicago, where I hear it is cold. Here in North Carolina it is warm and rather gorgeous. The peas and sugarsnaps are in, and it's hard not to eat them straight off the vine. I suppose we should wash the pods first, but we are, after all, organic farmers. A little organic dirt never hurt nobody.
I have finished the revision I've been working on all spring, so when I come back from Chicago on Sunday, I will have a wide-open road until the end of May, when my children will be hanging out full time in all their glory. Don't tell them, but we're putting the boys to work this summer. I'm calling it Homeschool Summer Fun Camp. Have adventures folding the laundry! Test your your dexterity as you spend the morning weeding the garden!
But in that little stretch of three weeks between Sunday and May 31st, I have my house to myself and for the most part my time to myself. So you know what I'm going to do?
I'm not sure if I should tell you. You'll scoff. You'll raise your eyebrows and roll your eyes. You might even smirk. Okay, no, not you. You would never smirk.
But you'll take it with a big grain of salt when I tell you that I'm going to organize my attic.
Yes, yes it is true.
I even plan to use Jack's flip video camera to make a before-video for your viewing pleasure. Just please don't send people from reality TV shows to my house after watching, no matter how great the temptation.
Here's the thing: for so long I've told myself I just can't do it. That the only way to tackle the attic is with professional help, which might include the administering of professionally-prescribed drugs, but would most certainly entail hiring a professional organizer.
At other times I've thought, 'Why not leave the mess for the children, after I've dearly departed? It's mostly theirs, after all.'
But I have decided to toss out my defeated-even-before-I've begun attitude and say, Yes, yes I can. I really can. Really, really I can.
Stop smirking! Remember how I said you weren't the smirking type? It doesn't become you at all.
So that's my big plan. It's not exactly grand, but I imagine once my attic is put to rights, the rest of my house will follow suit. Suddenly I will be living simply, almost austerely. Everything in its place, everything peaceful, calm, serene.
Is it just a crazy dream?
Speaking of crazy dreams, I dreamed about the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge last night. That's it--no more BBC America for me!
I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.