THE PURGE

First off, it's important to note that today is a really good hair day. Ratted to highest heights, and lacquered like a hockey helmet. Which has empowered me to begin blogging again. Honestly, I am intimidated. That's what happens when you shirk your blog responsibilities for well over a year (or two). The creative juices that used to be your friend now ferment into rancid stomach acid and keep you awake at night.

I've tried to rationalize not writing. "Can't. Too hard," and "I've been sad," have dribbled from my lips for many months. Then, as I read my scriptures this morning, I noticed that a very wealthy family offered up all of their worldly possessions in exchange for a record of their people, and I was ashamed. For there is no record of my children or life experiences over the last few years, available for someone to buy at an inflated price. And let's face it—in a century or two, for sure there's going to be a bidding war on my memories. Even if it's only to destroy them.

And sure, these most recent years might have felt like a bucket of still warm feces to my face a good portion of the time. But there have also been tremendous joys. And nobody will know about them, because I kept them in my heart, certain I'd remember them forever because I intended to write them down in my children's baby books...just as soon as I got around to buying them. (how late is too late?)

I was a fool. What made me think I'd recall something that happened several years ago, if I can't even remember how to spell hoo?

So for time's sake, here is a Readers Digest version of the last few years: Spent a fair (huge) amount of time in my pajamas, cut the tags out of all of my shirts and sweaters (because they're scratchy, you guys. Not because they say X-large—everybody knows I'm not), bought some new towels, sent a son on a mission, got snagged by the Iranians in the mall skin-care kiosk, forgot to bring in the delivered milk every other week, pulled my achilles tendon, bought a purse, bought a purse, bought a purse, bought some shoes, bought a purse, bought a purse, went to Hawaii and spent most of the week in Sam's Club accumulating chocolate covered macadamias (culture), ran for office, resigned from office (long story), moved my parents into our home, piled my sewing room to the ceiling with, "Where does this go?" "I don't know—just put it in mom's sewing room," lived in a constant state of pucker lips and clenched jaw—don't know why, started dating Amazon Prime (we see each other every day—it's going really well) and finally, married off my first born son.

Whew! The purging is over and we can finally start fresh together! Now if you'll excuse me, I hear the siren song of a Ralph Lauren purse wailing at a pitch only I can hear. It's my job to shut it up and show people my hair.

LOVE YOU ALL, and look forward to many moons together.

The newlyweds, photo credit to the very talented Kara Elmore. You can find her on Instagram @kara_elmore