Despite the crud-filled month, I continued to write through my husband's two plus week illness, then through two bouts (yes, I relapsed) of upper respiratory gunk of my own. During those five weeks, I completed a novel and planned and began another.
Although I kept pushing and completed my writing goals, now at the beginning of February, I am tired and weary to the point of being stalled in my writing and feeling so sad that an aching emptiness resides inside me.
Perhaps I am being reminded that I am not only an author, but a loving, caring person who finds herself to be weary.
The definition of weary is to be exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor, or freshness.
In addition to bringing the crud back from his trip to rural Iowa, hubby brought the most glorious quilt. The pattern is called Twisted Bargello. What an awesome precious gift!
My mother was a quilter, and quilts tend to signify comfort for me. The weight of the quilt is light and welcoming. For the next few days, I intend to curl up in my quilt literally and figuratively for a brief time out for a few days. It's time for me to soothe and heal my weary self.