Being a mammal is hard work. Much of that work comes in the form of the children we beget, living out the fullness of our mammalhood. Mammals purportedly raise their children in a warm and loving manner. If you are a mammal and raising children, you are well aware that this is not always the case. Sometimes, in fact, raising children in a warm and loving manners feels extremely counterintuitive.
Mammals generally live in community. That, too, has its challenges. Under normal circumstances, I adore community, but recently I’m having a hard time liking being with people. Being a hermit, on some days, sounds like a lot of super fun. WOO HOO.
I guess I’ve been feeling a bit like a rabid dog might feel. However that is. Like a lot of pent up energy needs to explode. Or something like that.
Now that I’m old (I turned fifty last month) and my life has changed so so much in the last five years, ’cause I don’t give birth every couple years anymore, there seems to be a lot of pent up energy. Like all those years of baby-having were preparing me for something.
What? I don’t really know yet. I’m praying about it, I’m thinking about it. God has something glorious for me, I know, He always does. I think a lot about what has been. How I grew in those intense years. What I know now. What I can share with others, what I did well AND what I did poorly.
So I started writing. And writing and writing, the results of which are nearly ready to launch. A book I wrote several years ago is about to be re-published. and I’m almost ready to launch a little booklet about simple homeschooling, hopefully the first in teeny weeny series about back to basics.
It’s new. I started a new blog as a forum to spread the word about writing and other stuff I’m doing. Don’t worry, I’ll still rant over here. Just getting my blog legs back. Come visit at