Just Keep Writing…Right?

I joined a writing workshop at the beginning of September.

‘Cause I’m a writer, right?

Or a wannabe.

Or somewhere in between.


Anyway. I was really excited. It started well. I was enjoying the push to engage in writing, enjoying the readings, the assignments, the feedback. And then life crept up on me, and before I knew it I was swamped with the basic realities of family/work/church, etc and I couldn’t possibly do ANY of the workshop stuff. And I felt like a big loser – ’cause who wastes money on something they don’t have time for?! And who was I to think I was a writer anyway?

I read this quote recently (William Faulkner, apparently), and it struck me.




Trying to do that. Hard, but trying.

Hard because of time. Hard because who reads it anyway? Hard because I’m no expert. Hard because…

“Because, because, because, because, be-caaaauuuuse” (what song is that from, anyway?)


But. I came back here today and looked over this space. And you know what?

I like my writing.

And I like writing.

And I think that’s good enough.

So I’ll keep at it.


(The one writing commitment I’ve been trying to keep – and forgetting to link to my personal blog – is my weekly post at This Sisterhood. I’ve been doing a series on Sabbath, and would love it if you came over to read. Here’s the latest post, on lessons I’m learning related to quitting a job. Also, as part of my reflecting on Sabbath I made this printable as a reminder for myself. Feel free to click on it for a PDF  to print out if it’s a reminder you need too.)


Be still printable


Homage to “H”

my hyposthesis

is that


is in a

habitual harmony







healthy homeostasis

The Naptime Conundrum

Birds chirp

through the baby monitor

the naptime noise

that means silence



the brain is noisy

wondering how to best use




out of control

is how it all feels

the dishes, dirty floors, laundry piles

fallout from a few days of sick mama

doing the essentials only


and so now,

my moment

of peace and quiet

and how to decide


the coffee in my favourite chair


the dishes in the sink?



Thoughts on Self

Pondered the word self this week. Something along the lines of “I’d like time for myself” or “I’d like to have my body to myself” and how self-less is supposed to be a good thing. Honourable, certainly, but without self, who am I, anyway? Mama, ah, yes. Selfish, maybe, but I could use a little me in my life.

I yearn for poetry. It rattles around my brain, but never near a pen or keyboard or moment to cultivate the fleeting words. And music, I want to belt harmony and learn to play banjo. And art, I long to get messy and make beauty. And knowledge, seminary whispers my name.

I think I know that it won’t always be this – this balancing of babe on hip while finding counters to make snacks on, the never-ending laundry from the almost potty-trained and the profuse spitter upper. This exhausted sinking down after they’re asleep, looking at the still-to-do, deciding how much to work and how much to rest, only to have the baby wake again in less than an hour, and at least three more times before it’s time to get up again. I am hopeful that there is time on a someday down the line to cultivate all these parts of me on hold right now.

And then, of course, the guilt. I chose these – marriage and babies in my twenties. The jealousy of those around me who have time to do all the rest creeps in, despite my best efforts at gratitude and how much I love these boys.

So we weave it all together. Maybe it’s not what I mean when I say I want poetry, music, art, books. But we nursery rhyme our way through the days. Lullabies in harmony. Dollarama watercolours fill the kitchen art line, and the lessons in the children’s lit are just as true, if simpler (and maybe that’s what we need).

 *photo source


I am amazed at how parenting sanctifies. The things that are getting worked in and worked out of my character as I practice patience, learn gentleness, try to persevere, mine for  joy, and learn to give thanks are beyond any lessons or character building I’ve experienced anywhere else.


More daunting than a blank page, these boys are my art right now, my character the poem, our home the harmony.

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” – John 3:30


Simplifying Supper

why do they want dinner

*photo source

Our new routine has James home for supper every night. Getting meals on the table has always been a challenge for me, but I buckled down and did a meal plan last week, and it’s changed my lfie already. You can read all about it over at This Sisterhood.