A Time to Every Purpose

So, it’s 4:30AM and here I am, writing this blog post.  For nearly a week, I have been trying to put pieces together into something coherent and meaningful.  But the words will not behave.

It’s not writer’s block, exactly.  Do I write about the joy of libraries?  About my favorite childhood authors?  About the need for more female protagonists in children’s books?  Or do I write about my idiosyncratic appraisal clients, such as the one who left a bag of figs dangling from my mailbox just yesterday?  Do I “cheat” and fall back on a piece about my bad “car karma,” including Migo’s first ride in a tow truck last week?  I have plenty of material.  My little notebook is full of paragraphs going in a variety of directions. 

Which is, perhaps, a reflection of the rest of my life. Since I have come home (and been blessed to realize that Cape May is home), my life has been exuberantly full.  I have a pleasantly nagging backlog of appraisal work.  When I can’t DIY in This Old House, I have been trying to corral the “Cape Maybe” contractors that gave Carol the title for her second novel.  Then, time for line dancing class, fitness class, even Migo’s obedience class.  Time to catch up with friends.  Time to feed my “Amazon Prime” addiction.  I have been giving my life 16 to 18 hour days, and I have no trouble falling asleep!

And I still write every day.  Journal, Facebook, garrulous texts…in addition to appraisal reports and my notebook musings.  I notice that my voice is starting to change, and I wonder where that will take me.

Because my return to "Kansas" has also made me keenly aware of time. I see the winter months not too far ahead of me, both literally and figuratively, and realize I may be moving much more slowly then.   I am still a bit scattered, getting it all back together, but I do have direction. 

So, when I awoke and embraced this morning’s gift of time, I found myself thinking of The Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn.”   

I believe the pieces will come together in their good time.