It's been over a year since I have posted anything.  I haven't lost the urge to write, and there is certainly no lack of topics.  I simply lack the time.  With the daycare/preschool taking over my life, I spend so much time thinking, planning, playing, and administrating that by the end of the day there is no energy to write and few enough minutes.  And, because most of what I write would be about other people's children (and, though I love them, it would not not always complimentary), I choose to remain silent.  On the outside.  Inside, I have experiences enough to delight, appall, frustrate, and amuse for years of storytelling.

Instead of telling these tales, and perhaps hurting or offending, I read.  Books have once again become quite an obsession in my life.  I have always loved to read and desired to write fiction when I was younger.  Now, I still love to read, but I find my "talent" at writing is not in fiction, unless it's a short story.  (I'm too easily bored or distracted for more.)  I typically write what I would call essays.  My take on some topic, incident, person, or place.  However, I almost exclusively read works of fiction, and if it's reasonably good fiction, I often find myself lost in that world.  What a delight to be able to leave behind snotty noses, running errands, cooking, cleaning, and all that goes with being a mid-40's wife, mom, and full time employee to spend 30 minutes in another place or time, or as a 16 year old, or as a vampire, or some/all of the above.  Yes, I am currently into "that kind" of fiction.  It's total fantasy and I love it.

Over the last number of years (about 4), I have read a fair number of books, approximately 50.  (Let's face it, it's probably more.)  I read about a book a month, sometimes more, sometimes less, depending upon what is going on in my real life.  But, a book (or two) a month is probably the average.  Maybe that's not a lot?  I can't say.  Anyway, because I like the printed word, and I do not like to borrow books, I am amassing quite a collection.  Last night I uttered the phrase "I need more books" and saw the hubs visibly cringe.  The little space I have for books is already packed 2 rows deep and stacked on top.  I think it's time to invest in some built-ins to create the home library I have always dreamed of (think Belle in Disney's Beauty and the Beast).  As if.

Anyway, I guess there is no real reason behind this post.  Though I have a lot to say, the topics are too varied and my mind is too preoccupied to actually put something coherent together on a single thought.  So, until another time when my thoughts are gathered.  I'm off to finish our preschool/daycare day and then returning to my comfort zone where there are no tired preschoolers, no messy hands, no dinners to cook, no laundry to fold:  BOOKS!