idle

The seasons that run smoothly for me are, unsurprisingly, the ones that involve focus and order. The routines, the boundaries, the guidelines – I’m wired for those things.
Midsummer now and those things, the routines and the order, seem to have fallen by the wayside. Like, the wheels have fallen off the wagon.

I am learning, though, that time in abundance is the best. Time to be bored, to be hot and lazy, to feel like there is simply nothing else to do but curl up on the couch with a handful of wheat thins and a stack of whatever has been languishing unread by the side of the bed.
To leave wet towels in a heap, to listen to the boys bicker until they sort it out, to let the pool count as a shower and to hold myself unaccountable for what might have gotten done.
To sit and watch the spectacular burst of grapefruit as the sun burns itself out.