I started to write my annual blog…about summer in the garden. About my amazing tomatoes and the herbs-a-plenty, and the flowers that didn’t flourish but arrived with sparing splendor. I was busy crafting metaphors about my writing and the boys, and time moving on and…
Something stopped me. I just wasn’t feeling it.
Which is weird because weaving words into sentences—that’s my happy state. And, tending tomatoes and flowers—is my happy place. Throw in my two awesome boys alongside the most loving partner a gal could ask for—and all that should add up to happy with a capital H.
But honestly, I’m more happyish.
Which feels more than and not enough ish.
I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not the only one out here who feels this way. The sheer number of non-fiction books with Happy in their title tells me that there are more than a few of us out here wandering in ishland.
So, I’ve decided rather than fighting the feeling—or the lack thereof, to lean in.
Between now and “The Most Wonderful Time of The Year!” (insert sarcastic laughter), I’ll be exploring the origins of ish and how to get from here to there…and where there even is anyway.
Open invitation…if you’re a long-ago friend from places of origin, or a writing soul that I met while toiling over our craft, or a parent that I PTA’d alongside, or a former or current colleague…..or…..reach out: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Let’s exploreish this topic together in a future blog.
In the meantime, please enjoyish these photos of tomatoes from…summer in the garden.