This is a fuzzy, low-light iPhone photo taken of me by a good friend. Forgive its quality and understand its purpose here: I'm happy. This was taken the day after a reading I gave, from my new poetry collection, in Athens, Georgia, scene of my Ph.D. days and Annabelle's baby days. It's where I learned to be a professor; it's where I worked toward the credential to make that possible. It's where I wrote a lot of poems about breastfeeding (and started a novel I never finished). Man, that was a long time ago!
This is all to say that nobody can be a poet, editor, teacher, mom, wife, AND small business owner, so I'm cutting the one I can cut right now--I'm closing down the etsy shop and giving up the constant, back-of-my-mind pressure to think about the shop, making things to sell, and even--yes--blogging. I think there can be very little room in a happy life for pretending you're something you're not or feeling bad because you can't be and do everything. I'm no longer a blogger, and I can't manage four careers. So.
What a lovely time of my life, though, that I did spend doing this--writing about my days at home with Annabelle, writing about my homeschooling and homemaking and crafting and selling, my friendships and my growth as a woman, a person. What a joy it was to cast those plans and hopes and ideas and accomplishments into the world and have warm, encouraging, smart people say, "Hey!" and "Good idea!" and "Keep going!" and "Look what I did!" I will be forever grateful and glad.
Someday I might be a blogger again--this life is oddly short and oddly long at once--and if I ever am, I hope I'll find you. I hope you'll once again say, "Hey!" and "Keep going!" Thanks, friends, for everything. I wish you peace and love.