A past love

An old friend has returned. One I rather heartily wish would have stayed away. Insomnia. I have had a lifelong battle with the affliction, at times I hated it and at other times it was a dear friend. It has always been a wild unpredictable thing, coming and going as it pleased. However, over the past many years, it has been, curiously, seldom a problem. I think, upon reflection, that I can pin point it's disappearance with the pregnancy and birth of my second son, which means for the past 3 years I have not been visited by my friend, Insomnia.

If you ever had the affliction, you should know that it prevents you from sleeping even when you need it most. During insomnia bouts, my mind is active, racing from topic to topic, idea to idea, with absolutely no way to shut it down.

Which brings me to my past love. Writing. It is something I haven't done in earnest in years, four years to be precise. During these endless nights laying awake, my mind has revisited my favorite world, the world of make-believe, of story-telling. My imagination is captured anew and the thing I thought that I nearly lost, I have found again.

I did not expect to be able to pick up my writing again for many more years to come. I have two children at home that need my attention. Over these past years there has never been enough time for me to write. However, things seemed to have changed. Why? I am not sure. For how long? I am not sure about that either. All I know is that I am glad to have this chance to return to my past love again.

I have missed writing and I plan to immerse myself in this world of my own making until either my children holler for me or my Insomnia friend moves on again.

The beauty of books

I have always had a love of books. Not only to read them but to collect them too. There is just something about the beauty and intrigue of a bound book of the written word.

Just yesterday I dusted off my tomes, leather bound, cloth bound and paperback alike, and moved all my bookshelves to stand together, better displaying my collection. This impressive display takes up one entire wall in the dinning room. The best place, for now, in our small home.

Daft Days

I read somewhere that the days after Christmas extending until January 6th are called Daft Days in Scotland. I think it's a very apt way to describe these past days.

Blah, Blah, Blah.

There's a lack of need to do anything, no ambitions to get anything done, absolutely no motivation to get up off the rump and be useful.

Not even much desire to write down my thoughts. However, since it's not quite yet January 6th, I have one more day to endure this unmotivated attitude.

After that, though, I'd better get off my rump and get moving, or my backside will become permanently numb.