Friday, August 16, 2013

A verbing See-ya-Later post

Right now, in the middle of August but headed into September, action verbs abound.

Canning.  Dozens of jars of tomatoes burbled their way out of a steaming pot and into the cellar.  Pickled peppers showed them the way.  Corn joined the party.  Peaches and apples will follow in turn.

Running, biking, swimming . . . but of course.  I co-opt anyone around me -- my boys, my husband, my friends -- into joining me while I move around.   I have my eye on that triathalon almost exactly a year from now.

Spending.  Spending time, that is, with my energetic and occasionally frenetic sons.   Not enough time, probably.  They are bouncing off the walls, pretending they do not want school to start, but they are in fact eager to see their friends and to have a bit more structure. Soon, soon.

Sorting, cleaning, organizing.   The semester starts in less than two weeks, and once it starts, I hope to have as much of my life on auto-pilot as I can.  So I'm simplifying, preparing meals in advance, making lists, arranging wardrobes, coordinating calendars.

Grieving.  There is a huge undercurrent of sorrow I have tried not to write about, because it's not my own story:  my former husband, the father of my only birth child, is gravely ill, and so our daughter is watching her corner of the world fall to pieces.   Verbs are not enough; the sadness takes the form of nouns:  grief.  Verbs: grieving.  Adjectives.  grief-stricken.  Expletives and supplications, too.

Launching K-daughter, who is headed off to college.  She bought a car last night so she can come back home when she needs to . . . but she won't be a constant presence, and we'll miss her.

Telephoning.  Catching up with my husband, who is off at the army for three months.  Listening with both ears and with all my heart to my daughter.  Coordinating with my father, who will get married in September.

Waiting.  Patiently (but only because I have no choice), for X-son's adoption paperwork to slog its way through the bowels of Haitian bureaucracy.

Writing, teaching, meeting
.  These lie on the horizon for me, imminently approaching, with an extraordinarily action-packed semester of classes and committees ahead of me.  This, this is where I really want to be.  The rest of the action is mere swirling winds, circling madly around the center of the storm;  but the writing and teaching are the eye of the hurricane that is building in my head.

All this is to say, the verb that I'll be pulling out of this long list for a while is blogging.  I'll be taking a break from the Miser Mom blog for several months now.  The time has come to say good-bye, or at least, "till we meet again".

Be well.  Do good.  Live large.


  1. Sniffle!

    I look forward to the next break for blogging.

  2. Thanks for sharing so much this summer! Have a great semester.

  3. I will miss you too. Thank you so much for coming back to share with us this summer. Can't wait to hear all about X-son when you catch a moment. Prayers to your daughter and her father.