This weekend, after the all the apple-making, and the wood-stacking, I had a quick dash to the flea markets. And I finally found the 'antique, sturdy, comfy, pretty and affordable rocking chair' I've been keeping my eye out for all summer - and longer, even. I got it in the door and barely brushed off the dust before sitting down in it in front of the fire and picking up my needles. Oh goodness - words cannot express that feeling. And it's essentially where I've been ever since that moment - sitting and rocking. And dreaming and scheming up all the ways in which I could ignore everything I have to do outside of my home, and adjust all my responsibilities so that I never have to leave this spot again....
Feed my family? Why surely Calvin can dash to the pantry for a jar of applesauce, and Ezra can count five spoons from the kitchen - that counts as dinner, right?...
Write? Blog? I can't see why the laptop can't be delivered right here...to my lap...
Stoke the fire? Thankfully, that's one the three of them are happy to fight over...
Homeschool my children? Well, at least I'll be easy to find. Bring me a book and let's read, come snuggle on my lap and talk, come sit at my feet and draw...
Cast my ballot? Absentee!...
Holiday Shopping? Etsy, baby. Handmade, delivered right to my door...
See my friends? Gladly they've already proven that they'll come to me and sit right next to me. They even bring food. Ah...
Birth a baby? Okay, well I suppose I'll have to get out of the chair for that one. But not far - we'll just put the birthing tub right next to it anyway. And when it's over I'll sit right back in this chair with babe in arms and nurse and sit and sleep and rock all the way 'til spring...
Yes, I'll be right here. (Oh, friends. If this is to be my lucky fate, I fear the blogging content around these parts is about to take a steep turn towards very, very boring.)
