Confession Saturday

I confess:

--I have been avoiding an On My Nightstand post for several weeks, because, look at that scary pile (and it grew even taller and scarier after I took the photo)! I confess, I have purged my nightstand and am starting fresh, with the hope of doing one more On My Nightstand before the end of the year. In the meantime, if you are looking for a nice volume of poetry to enjoy as winter creeps toward us, try New Tracks, Night Falling by Jeanne Murray Walker. Her poems examine what she views as our current cultural darkness (fear, alienation, distance, suspicion), as well as the signs of hope, togetherness, faith, joy that we can find despite it.

--I forgot to send a snack for AJ's class on Tuesday, my assigned day on the kindergarten snack calendar. I remember looking at it and thinking, Oh, yes. Can't forget the snack on November third. After which, I never thought of it again. I confess, the worst part of it was not feeling like a bad mother (which I did); the worst part were the copious tears shed by AJ, who mourned the fact that the class didn't get to say "Thank you, AJ" like they would have if only I would have remembered. I confess, I briefly considered saying It was Dad's fault! But I didn't.

--It has been just over one year since we moved into our current house, from the city to the suburbs, from multiple levels and basement laundry, to one-level living and main floor laundry. I confess, it has worked out better than I ever could have imagined. Even though I miss my old neighbors, and even my little house, I am so glad we made the move. But, I confess, every time I drive past my old house I cry, and I grouse about how the new owners are obviously neglecting the gardens and why don't they open the shades up, anyway??

--I made Husband promise to do the cooking after he retires. I confess, I have every intention of holding him to it. By the time he reaches retirement, I will have cooked approximately 13,800 dinners during our married life, and I'll be ready for a change of pace.

--I am now a full three years behind on our family photo albums. I confess, I would rather, read, write, or nap than compile family photo albums. And don't even talk to me about scrapbooks for the kids. It's not happenin'. But I confess, I really admire the people who do keep up with family photo albums and scrapbooks for their kids.

--I don't know what to say about the recent shootings at Ft. Hood and in Orlando. These events, and others like them, are unfathomable to me.

--Every time I sit down to write a confession, I think I really don't have much to confess. Until I start writing. Then all the confessions start tumbling out. I confess, I wish I had as many poems tumbling out as small guilts and worries.

1 comment:

ljchicago said...

That 13,800 number is SO depressing.