So is this how it happens? A slow dwindle in writing production until it becomes less than a trickle? What charged out of the gate slowly losing steam? Have I mentioned before that I have too many hobbies? I’ll tell what’s happened to almost all of them – life. Hobbies and interests get intertwined into life and eventually get shoved aside as all the other wants and needs of modern life move towards the front. Oh well. Even it almost dies out, it will still be there if I ever want to go back to it.
Mother’s Day was celebrated in fine style at the Boss household. An ‘omelet to order’ breakfast with gluten free scones (tasty, even to this longtime bread lover) followed by the traditional planting of flowers and yard work. Dinner of grilled vegetables was cancelled by Ms. Boss in lieu of the Boss Family staple – Sunday Night Nacho Night. A course of Raw Vegan Cheesecake (cashews provided the body while lemon provides the tang) rounded out the evening. Ms. Boss proclaimed it to be one her favorite Mother’s Days. I’m glad. When she’s happy, I’m happy.
I am giving serious consideration to driving eleven hours to a small town in Ontario and running a half marathon in a kilt to win a wooden spoon. Why? Just because. It doesn’t look to be this year, but it might have just made my bucket list.
I just learned how to make goetta properly. I’ve been trying to accomplish this particular feat off and on for almost twenty years. The key? Thin slices and taking the time to make sure it’s properly brown. What’s goetta? Questions like are the raison d’etre for the internet.
Looking up words like ‘raison d’etre’ are another reason why the internet exists.
I actually wrote in my personal journal for the first time in over two months the other day. It was nice to reacquainted. This particular journal has a bit of quirk to it – it’s kept somewhere other than my house, a private place that visit every once in awhile. In a way, it’s almost a perfect situation. Journals at home quickly get forgotten, but it is an ingrained habit to write anytime I visit the place where it’s kept. It’s pretty much an obligation to write anytime I visit – kind of like visiting your best friend when your in town.
At the risk of being a hypocrite, journals are important. My mother, who died when I was thirteen, kept a journal for a few months during her life. I was able to read it a few years ago. It was absolutely mind-blowing how germane and poignant it was to what was going in my life. You don’t see the struggle of your parents when your little and even if you do, you don’t always understand. It was a snapshot back in time that basically let me know that I wasn’t alone. In much the same vein, I had the opportunity to read some letters that my father sent to my grandmother when he was in his twenties. It was much the same thing. Again, at the risk of being a hypocrite, write a journal and leave if for your kids once your gone. Let them know that you struggled with many of the things that they will struggle with when they become your age. Perhaps one day it will help them not feel quite as alone as they do. I know what a small snapshot into my parent’s life did for me.
For the record, I believe it’s safe to assume my parents never struggled with writing a blog.
Have I told my wife I love her lately? I believe I just did.