I love Mondays.
Monday mornings are the best part of this whole stay-at-home-mom gig. After a weekend of friends and Buddy Walking and church and family, this is my time to clean up and catch up.
Lately, I've been spending every spare minute on the weekends working on a writing project. It's freelance work for a publisher, so I can't say much about it. It's a new process for me--writing drafts, reading feedback, trying again. I'm working with a tight word count, and I'm trying to make my writing fit into a larger project, so there has been a lot of fiddling and questioning and rewriting. I haven't worked this hard on my writing since college, and it's been a great--if sometimes tiring--exercise.
And, that means that I completely abandon any responsibility around the house all weekend.
So today is for groceries and laundry and picking up toys. It's for sorting through the bag of wet rain gear that got thrown into the car after the Buddy Walk. It's for enjoying the silent house.
After a weekend of mess-making-play and work that involves shifting the same words again and again on a computer screen, Monday mornings feel productive. In an hour my whole house will look different--calmer if not actually cleaner.
The photo above is from a recent sand painting by a group of visiting Tibetan Buddhist monks. They created this picture over four days at our library. At the end of their visit, they wiped away the sand and released it into a local river, with their blessing. I considered taking pictures of my messy house to accompany this post, but really, who wants to look at that? This seemed a fitting image for contemplating the impermanence of a clean home.
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