...to while away the winter in not accomplishing my winter to-do list.
At the beginning of winter, I talked with a dear friend of mine about our winter to-do lists-- projects to productively pass the cold winter days spent inside. We're both crafty, creative sorts, and we both enjoy creative endeavors. I was going to do some sewing, like make a quilt (haw haw. Why start another unfinished project?) and work on some website building (which hasn't really panned out as I was hoping...) and maybe even... paint and draw (as if).
But now I'm pretty sure I will do nothing but read books and bake bread. Maybe I'll get caught up in Jonah's baby book (which is ridiculously far behind). Maybe. I am very determined to perfect my sourdough bread this winter, so that's something. And of course, I'll start my garden seedlings and do some garden planning...
But really, I have a big long list of books that I would like to get read, and what better time to work on that than when it's too cold to be outside? I seem to have rediscovered my love of reading books. I'm not entirely sure when I lost it, but I think it was when Jonah was born. I read lots of books while I was pregnant with him (Word to the wise: Do not read The Good Earth while pregnant.) but after he was born, my attention span dipped to nothing. I could only read while nursing, and then only in short spurts, so I got into a major magazine habit. And it stuck. So I've been pretty much stuck with library magazines and blogs. Lots of blogs.
But now! I'm reading books again. I'm not sure what changed. I recently read a massive 3-inch thick novel, and it only took me a few weeks. What better way to escape the winter blahs than by getting lost in a book? (Note to self: Find books about tropical places.)
I guess I'm writing this to try to give myself permission to be lazy. I'm feeling a little depressed about my lack of motivation and productivity. It's not like I'm bored or anything, I'm just guilting myself about how much time I spend with a book or laptop. I even -gasp!- enjoy the quiet evenings by the fire planning my garden instead of rushing around trying to get the tomatoes canned. I make sure my family has food and clean clothes, ya know, the necessities and all, but I can't seem to make myself get moving much beyond that. I also try to justify this by reading books about things I'm planning to do, thereby fooling myself into thinking I'm making headway on my to-do list.
So maybe if I drink lots of tea and read lots of books, I'll be more than ready in when spring rolls around to tackle that list of projects... Rest is okay, right? If I had my choice, I think I'd just hibernate, and this is about as close as I can get...