More than three weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve shown my face around these parts. If any of you are still left out there, still coming back to see if I’m around, well, all I can say is, God bless you. You have the patience of a saint.
Things have been more off the wall than usual around here. It could be the fact that I’m writing back-to-back books. I turned one manuscript in on a Wednesday and started the next on a Thursday. That’s insane — even for me, and I’m the queen of insane.
On top of that, I’ve been dealing with some health stuff lately. It’s minor, but enough to slow me down, make me wonder, and cramp my style. Things seem like they’re moving in the right direction, although I’ve got a couple of issues going on that will keep me from doing my beloved yoga — or any exercises involving core strength — for the foreseeable future. Maybe forever. That has not been sitting well with me. I’m spoiled when it comes to health stuff. I expect to be able to do anything and everything with nary a pain or problem. So this is new, and I’m trying to find the lessons in all of it. I’m skirting around a couple of possibilities I hate even to acknowledge, things I think I probably need to learn from this. It’s still too early to say for sure. Maybe they’ll show up in a future post.
To give you some idea just how out of it I’ve been, here’s how Tuesday went: I almost took Chiara to dance class instead of faith formation. The only thing that prevented me from packing up the ballet and tap shoes and heading in the completely wrong direction was Olivia, who said, quite gingerly, “Isn’t today religion?” Yes, and an hour earlier than dance. Lucky we didn’t miss it completely.
After that brain spasm, I decided I needed a cup of tea to calm my nerves. It would have been delicious had I used a tea bag. Sigh.
Then about an hour later I rolled out some pizza dough and made our Valentine’s Day dinner. Dennis and I had a special pizza, loaded with peppers and onions and olives and mushrooms. It looked fabulous. I popped it in the oven, stood up to dust the flour off my apron, and stopped. Wait a minute. I don’t remember putting cheese on that, I thought to myself. Bingo. I made a pizza without cheese. Good for the heart, I guess, but not nearly as delicious. Fortunately, there was time to throw some on top and salvage the dinner. So, that’s how things are going here. I’m not sure I should be allowed to operate any heavy machinery, or even the dishwasher.
I’ll try to be back soon to post my latest Life Lines column and to share some thoughts on those lessons I’m supposed to be learning from this slow down of mine. Stay tuned…