Writing something can take me all of five minutes some days.  And then, other days, I can labor over a piece for days, let it sit a month or more, add to it in bits and parts.

Today I finished up working on a post for Travelers Rest Here about a local farming family.  I thoroughly enjoyed my interview time spent with this family – three grown children and their parents.  I loved hearing about their farm (where I buy corn and strawberries and all other kinds of produce as well) and about their dad’s parenting ways and their family traditions.

I remember when I left the interview I faced the struggle that has become familiar to me since the destruction of my own marriage.  The heavy sting of regret and mourning for What Should Have Been.  The deep desire to have given my own children what I felt I was a part of until my own mother passed away – a family with legacy, a family with history.  And, of course, in many ways we still are a family with a legacy, a history.  All families are, naturally.  But I wanted that one kind of legacy, that one kind of history.  The one that involved two parents staying married to one another for the length of their lives, til death do them part, front porch sitting and grand kid watching.  That sort of legacy.

The legacy my kids have abruptly inherited now looks shockingly different than any I had tenderly stored in my heart.  (And I’m trusting that the future legacy might also look different than any that I play on repeat in my worst imaginings.)

Ultimately though, despite the dark places my mind and heart try to leap to, I am grateful to sit at a table with families like the one in my story. For the exact same reason that I wrote about why the success of your marriage matters to my kids.  Because I want my family to see those families that endure, that persevere, even if they do not have the beautiful privilege of growing up in a family that looks just like that.  I want them to see a wide world and a variety of ways that a family can save one another.  You can read the Ledford family’s story here on the TRH website if you’d like.  I think their family’s story is a good one.

In other news, the kids figured out how to hook up the old school Nintendo some friends gave us a while back.  Tonight was Piper Finn’s night to stay up a little later with me and we played Tetris until my eyes hurt.  Also, I think my eyes might hurt because I am getting old.  Do I need reading glasses y’all?  Whatever.  I’m not doing that yet.  I refuse.

Sometimes I forget parts of my reality and I say things like “my side of the bed.”  I guess it’s all my side of the bed these days.  Actually, more accurately, none of it is my side of the bed.  I don’t even think I’ve had a bed for the last two and half years.  The bed feels quite communal – with at least two kids joining in on any given night still.

I started reading my first ever Francine Rivers book this week.  It’s about eighty bazillion pages long.  It’s a 14 day loan from the library, which means I’ll pay some hefty fines for returning this late – an inevitable outcome, I’m confident.  It’s been a good read so far, not at all my normal type of reading, but I am enjoying it.

I cut Ryder’s hair today.  When I asked the kids how it looked London sighed and said, “Ryder now looks like a dog whose owner cut his hair.”

Target is having a sale on dresses – many are less than $20.

It grieves me deeply to see that June is sweeping past us like a torrent.  I love school.  But I’m not ready to hit the books again just yet.

July Fourth – my favorite holiday of the year (that’s true) is almost here.  I can’t wait to celebrate in all our favorite ways.  I need some new recipe ideas though for our framily gathering – any ideas out there?

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