Swirls

Moving to North Carolina was one of the biggest changes in my life. Oftentimes I look around, sweating under the summer sun, and think about how crazy it is that I ended up here, in the South, when I always thought I'd remain near my Yankee roots. Then I realize my wonder isn't necessarily sparked by that life change, but by my (seemingly) sudden presence in adulthood. Much to my own bewilderment, as a child I always wanted to be an adult. Now that I am one, I don't want it anymore. Adulthood. It's not that I desire to be six again, but I want the freedom, the innocence, the ignorance to the ways of this world and its ability to bruise.

I saw two kids, perhaps around five, in Walmart the other day; one boy and one girl. The boy was wide-eyed approaching a display of fresh fruit that was successfully luring him in. The girl drifted behind, consumed with giggles and twirling her body around while watching her blue and white skirt follow. For a moment I wanted to toss down my list, allow the cart to wander off, and spin too.

I don't understand why I keep returning to this topic: my dread of the monotony of being an adult. Please don't mistake this post as a sign of my unhappiness or regret, even. I am very happy and very blessed. I do wish I would remember God's promises more and trust the prevailing of His will in my life if I just let it happen. Aside from that, I wouldn't change a thing.

Other than wishing for the social acceptance of public swirling no matter what the age of the swirler.

More + More = Convenience?

Google + ... another social media venue. So, with mild prompting from my techie husband, I accepted my invite and joined yet another online network. I have no friends (On Google +, I mean). Apparently, the only way you may invite people is by selecting someone from your gmail contact list. I have a gmail account, but I do not have a contact list. Personally I feel a contact list is redundant. If I need to contact someone via email, I locate the last correspondence in my inbox and reply. Simple. My successful system has worked thus far, but now I have no friends, which I am quite alright with accepting. In fact, it may be safe to say I am near being teched-out (if such a thing exists).

Slumber's Song

Early mornings during the summer months are hard for me to tackle. The warmth and comfort of the engulfing covers hold tight to my groggy body. A fresh day ahead is luring, but the knowledge that mornings such as these are numbered forces a battle between productivity and indulgence. Household chores rally together to entice my feet to the padded floor; laundry washed and folded, a neatly tucked-in bed, a backyard rid of advancing weeds and happily bathed dishes dangle a generous portion of sparkling pride in efforts to tempt me from my luxurious haven. An unexpected yawn shakes the allure of accomplished adulthood. Puppy love now nestles at my covered feet, a reminder that I am not the only soul caught in the snares of slumber's enchanting song.