My husband's books are pristine. He leaves a very small carbon footprint on his books - in fact he leaves not a single clue that he was ever there. The spines of his books are barely bent much less broken and you won't find any chocolate crumbs between any of his pages. His books are universally hardbound and stored by category and height. They are beautiful. But they are not mine. My books are messy. I am not afraid to wield a pen when reading and I have been known to attack some very interesting books with said pen. If I am going on a flight and I want a light, cheap book for the plane - I will buy (gasp, shame) paperback. And when I am sleepy at night because I had to stay up and finish the next chapter I have never, ever, ever once in my life gotten up to find a bookmark. I dog ear baby. But don't you think for one second that I love my books any less. Because that is not true. I just believe that the book was made for me, I was not made for the book. I think that my books serve at the pleasure of Heather - and it is my pleasure to leave them open face down on my bed while I check on my girls. It is also my pleasure to read my books in the tub or at the beach or during breakfast. If you think I was put on this Earth to take care of my books - you have got another thing coming. Just kidding. (sort of.) My books take care of me. They are there whenever I want or need them and I never stress about them.
That is why I don't even have a whiff of guilt about not posting regularly this summer. This blog was made to serve me - not the other way around. And it serves me quite well. I love that I have a space where I can write down the ramblings in my heart, note the small miracles of the day or share photos of my growing kids with my far away family. But I have a long list of things that truly need my attention and that I attend to every day and this blog is not on that list. So what does the future hold? Wish that I knew. But I can say this for sure: there is adventure coming up, there are long hard belly laughs, short bitter tears, glorious moments of joy and long stretches of hard work. And I am so glad that I can document them here... join me for the journey. At your pleasure, of course.
4 comments:
Well said Heather. I like the way you think.
Me too. I always tell moms with small children that a blog should be way down their list - but we who live far away do love any occasional picture you post.
In fact may I have permission to quote you on the paperback/travel choice? Great writing!
Of course aunt debbie - anything for you. And I do have a little bit of guilt about the pictures. :) hee hee
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