So, I am sitting here sipping lukewarm tea nursing my terrible head cold that seems to have taken hold of not just me, but my whole family. It's one that lingers, wandering away a tad one day only to come screaming back the next twice as bad as it was the day before. It's not following the usual schedule of a cold and I am starting to grow impatient and fatigued. Not just of my own health, but that of Beans who can't tell me what he needs, how he feels, and I don't think he fully understands it himself, so he gets really demanding and melty. He's also tired of the weather keeping him inside.
I think we can all agree that spring can't come soon enough.
One of the things that I have been doing with the few minutes of time between tending to Beans is going through this blog and deleting posts that aren't relevant any longer starting from way back when it began in 2011. I haven't made it very far yet, but it's certainly been an eye opening experience for me to see how my writing has changed. Not just how much my writing has changed, but how much I have matured and my perceptions of life has blossomed into something so much different than I had ever expected, or realized. In the last 8 years from the age of 32 to 40 I have become a different version of myself that is definitely an improvement. Not that we ever become a different person, because I think the nature of who we are really doesn't ever change, but we do improve, or I guess deteriorate (whichever the case may be) on how we coordinate that nature with the world, how we express it and live it.
