Hiatus (n): Gap in a series, argument, etc.; break between two vowels coming together but not in the same syllable. That’s what my trusty Pocket OED says hiatus means, and I guess I’ve been on one. To be clear, a hiatus of the first sort. A blogging hiatus. A writing hiatus. An unintentional hiatus, but a hiatus nonetheless. Look it, no one is to blame here. But if I had to blame someone it would be my dog, because well, since the moment he ransacked my heart with his wiggly tail and his fluffy fluff face, I have blamed him for a million things. Things he has no way of being responsible for. Things he has no way of knowing how to rectify. My herbs didn’t get watered when I was gone last week, dog’s fault. The Wood Borers are wrecking havoc on the patio again, dog’s fault. I haven’t put pen to paper in over three weeks, that damn dog. You get what I’m slinging here, yeah? By the way, who just tooted? You guessed it…
Now in reality, I have been preoccupied. Can we call it that? Let’s call it that. In May I went to Leavenworth for a week. Then I brought my mom back to stay with us for three weeks. I should probably just do a full stop there and let you piece together what the rest of my month may have looked like, but I’m feeling rather thorough today. I spent three weeks in the full 24/7 company of my mother, taking her out, showing her the sights and sounds of our new city, shopping, exploring, making food I don’t normally make, listening to stories of people I don’t know from “back home” and getting guilted into saying things like, “No, I totally love The View” and “Yes, let’s do laundry all day today” in the hopes that she enjoy her time here with us, and I think she did. And I enjoyed her company. But, coming from someone who can spend looooong periods of time alone, it is a bit much to be with someone all day, everyday.
Then there was the work trips my husband took in May. The end of school hoopla that we endured for my now rising fifth grader, sightseeing with my mom and ’em, planning and executing a trip back to the Ozarks for Memorial Day Weekend (which came with an unexpected trip to Tulsa, Oklahoma), spending time on Table Rock Lake with friends and family and then back home, finally, to a place of calm and quiet. No tvs blaring in my ear. No one bitching about sunblock. No passive-aggressive relatives making me cringe with ye olde, “Don’t be silly, I am totally fine with what is happening at this moment,” when in fact, they are not totally fine with what is happening at this moment. Ahhh, you hear that? No, that wasn’t me, that was the dog. I mean do you hear the silence? Yeah, it’s nice.
This is a really long, sordid way to say that I am back. I am home. I am home and I am happy. Happy to be typing away at my desk. I have work to send back to editors this week. I have phone calls to make. I have emails to read. I have a whole new (and final) season of Broad City to watch, but that is okay. I am home and alone (save the kid and dog) and I am content. I have much, much to share with you all. Much that I have been thinking on over the last month, so look out blogging world. I hope you welcome me back from hiatus. And I hope you have been taking care of yourself! ❤
PS… Happy Pride Month, y’all hootenannies! (Whew, sorry been in the Ozarks too long)