There comes a point - generally around the seven day mark - when, after having not blogged (let alone been on the computer one iota), a gal begins to pine for the internet. At first, after a day or two, or perhaps three, of not flicking on one her monitor, she feels almost as though a sense of freedom has permeated her universe. Days four and five are often ripe with events, findings, and thoughts which suddenly - as if out of the blue - feel as though they would make for the most inspired and delightful of posts.
Come the sixth and seventh days - and beyond - a longing sets in. Yes, there is solace and relaxation in the fact that one gets to unwind (or, perhaps more literally, unplug) for a spell, but then that itch, that yearning which resides in every writer's soul to put thought down on paper (virtual or real world) swims to the surface and leaps from the still waters like a hyperactive dolphin arching towards the heavens.
Or at least, this is how it is - always - for me. No matter the reason, intentionally chosen or thrust upon me, when I'm on a brief hiatus from the realm of blogging and being online, I feel that way. And when I do, I find my passion for blogging is suddenly, captivatingly, renewed (even if I didn't feel like it was waning in the slightest in the first place). A point which I rather adore experiencing.
Life, since we last chatted, dear friends, has been a massive whirlwind of activity, and yet also powerfully serene at times as well. The latter point, no doubt, comes from laying down each night under my mother's roof, at home after so many - too many - years on the long, engrained road of life.
Our new dwelling, gorgeous and begging to be filled with belongings and newly crafted memories, sits patiently still, as do my husband and I, while we await (a tad longer still) the arrival of our worldly goods, on a large truck that has to cross the great, massive width that is Canada.
{In the very near future it will be time to start the great unpacking - from boxes, bags, totes, you name it! Charmingly fun 1950s image via the Life magazine archives.}
I, however, simply had to find a computer, steal a moment (amidst days spent eating gluten-free s'mores for lunch and catching up on reading the many books I'd not had time to read over the past four months, as life became ever more devoted to our move), and pop in to say a cheerful hello from a (peacefully snowy) corner of British Columbia – as well as to thank everyone who left beautiful, encouraging comments on my last post. I adored logging in and feeling positively warm and fuzzy as I read them this evening.
Soon our belongings will arrive, followed by much unpacking, and then a return to the usual ebb and flow of life. Only (s0 much) better.
Happiest, sweetest wishes for an amazing March to you each. We'll connect again soon. ♥
