I’m having a very indulgent week. I made strawberry jam near the beginning of it, and every day since, I’ve had a big slice of buttered toast smeared with jam to go with my breakfast (brunch? lunch?) every day since. I feel so decadent!
Then, the day I had to go to the dentist, I spoiled myself rotten with shopping therapy, even though it was just a final fitting for my mouthguard (no drilling, no scraping, or digging, or prodding – I don’t know why I thought I needed to reward myself). Not one, not two, but three little boxes of plants and flowers from three different shops. I was proud of myself for avoiding shops four and five.
And at the last stop of the day, I got ice cream. Loads of ice cream, not just for me but for the whole family. Spoiling myself is great, but spoiling others is also a simple pleasure and indulgence.
I’ve been sleeping when I want, and doing extra meditation and also the kind of meditation where you just lie in bed and look at the backs of your eyelids and dream about future projects.
And there are the cats. It seemed like I spent half my waking hours hanging out of the sliding doors, feeding and petting the farm cats, or being cat furniture to the house kitties. I even visited the kittens at Auntie Milk’s house next door – Mama Tabitha and Chibi are letting Auntie Milk babysit while they rest in the shade at our house. Millie (formerly Middy, formerly Medium) had her kittens around June 1, but hasn’t revealed them yet. She’s so hungry and has become so friendly in exchange for food, though, that I’m sure she’s breastfeeding generously.
So, I’m going to have to ask you to indulge me . . . instead of writing a real blog post about writing (I’m not getting much done this year, to tell the truth), I will tell you about my lazy first week of summer, and then go read a book with some sparkling lemonade. It’s the last in the Wolf Hall series, and is such a big fat book that accomplishes some really neat things. A real indulgence.
I’d like to say that starting Monday, I’m going to knuckle down and plan and plot and schedule. But . . . I’d probably be better off treating writing as an indulgence . . . a daily treat of putting novel words down on fresh pages, a time to think, and some time spent each day feeding the body and soul with good things that will make me a better writer.
Have you scheduled in any treats for yourself this summer? What are they?