I haven’t written much in the past few months – a realization that is usually kind of depressing, since I write here to organize my thoughts, and nothing to write suggests no thoughts worth organizing. It’s true that I have been somewhat free of the pursuits that usually lead to blog posts – I have been reading only fiction, I haven’t been to church very much, and I’ve been working a lot.
I have managed to squeeze in a good amount of time with family and friends, though. And it’s been good. I’ve learned from my six-year-old nephew what happened to the dinosaurs (they all froze and their arms and legs fell off). I’ve had dinner with friends of friends and family of family when I was a visitor in their home town. I celebrated my Grandma’s 80th birthday with my whole family, and she was pleased, even though she’d never admit it. I went winery-hopping on the first real day of summer with some dear girl friends, and then headed back to the boys at the cottage to stack rocks on the beach with the baby and eat a delicious dinner.
And so I’ve been thinking about people. I’m not advocating ignorance of world events, or only caring about what happens in our own home town, but maybe sharing a glass of wine on the deck is true wisdom, because the people you share it with are really what it’s all about.