Friday, September 18, 2009
But I don't want to use my time wisely
Each and every early morning for a few weeks, as I lay in the dark nursing Roman, while the rest of the house is still quiet, I think about pockets. Not side pockets or lined pockets or any other kind of pocket that fun. But pockets of time. I visualize our day in pockets of time, and what can be accomplished in each. Then I further think what else could be accomplished simultaneously if I plan, delegate and think hard enough about it. Thinking this way during the nursing pocket has proved very productive. The book is written. Still loads to do, naturally, to be completely done with photography, and all else, but I am so glad I can say that it is written.
We had a weekend in South Carolina recently to celebrate my sister's wedding, and we had a pocket of time to visit with some friends we hadn't seen in way too long. Though we needed to head home we chose to linger a bit longer and visit them at their temporary home on the lake. All of our children (11 between us) buzzed around the water in canoes, rode bikes in the breeze, fed bagels to the cat (bad idea, I think) while the moms and dads had coffee by the water. Because I wasn't at home, I didn't feel the pull into the studio that I normally would have, but just existed there for a while with everyone and didn't ask one thing of myself. The only thing I got accomplished in that pocket was nothing. It was the wisest use of time I've had all summer.
Flipping through the pictures of our visit several days afterwards, I realized that summer has come and gone. In that time, Isabela has lost a few inches of the dress that was made for her at Christmas, and she is edging dangerously near to becoming elegant. So sure-footed and curious. And after her begging me (again) last night to cut her hair short, that photograph means entirely more to me than it might have otherwise. It's her eight year-old summer-bleached blowing hair that is likely to be gone here very soon. At least a hundred little changes like that have been happening with everyone and I'm afraid I can't keep up, name, photograph or elaborate on them all. I needed to make a note here. Just to stop for a moment and write a little postcard to myself. I'm not really sure where this post is going. With Summer, I suppose. Away.