Blogging is a reward for me. I love to write here at the end of the night. I don't know exactly why. It's just fun. I also like that I can come back to this place for memories--as I do when I want to remember details about my visits with Dad in the last part of his life. I still miss him so much.
It's not the end of my night yet, but I decided to post here before slogging through my work deadline. As usual, I'm up against a deadline right before leaving for a trip. Apparently, that's the way I'm wired. H., Fig, Sug and I hope to leave for the Cape by 10ish tomorrow morning. We'll be there for a week, then drive from the Cape to Maine to see H.'s family for another week. I'm feeling a little Eeyore-ish because I will have to work on another deadline from the Cape, and that is hard, when I just want to sit by the pond or coast on my bike. But then I remind myself that I have to earn money so that I can afford to take vacations and enjoy splurges.
Events have converged since Figgy returned from camp on Friday, and I've been busy with appointments and with our teen visitors from Florida. But my well-worn Lilly and Tory clothes are freshly washed and hanging to dry, and my old light blue backpack is ready to go--I like it for biking to the beach. It easily holds a beach towel or two, sunscreen, book, water, money, even groceries bought at the general store off the bike path.
Sug is flopped down beside me, my good, true friend, and I've got a tall, tall cup of ice water. Here I go, writing a magazine article about Christmas shopping strategies. I'll let you know when the issue comes out in November.
Good night to you.
TCOY
It's not the end of my night yet, but I decided to post here before slogging through my work deadline. As usual, I'm up against a deadline right before leaving for a trip. Apparently, that's the way I'm wired. H., Fig, Sug and I hope to leave for the Cape by 10ish tomorrow morning. We'll be there for a week, then drive from the Cape to Maine to see H.'s family for another week. I'm feeling a little Eeyore-ish because I will have to work on another deadline from the Cape, and that is hard, when I just want to sit by the pond or coast on my bike. But then I remind myself that I have to earn money so that I can afford to take vacations and enjoy splurges.
Events have converged since Figgy returned from camp on Friday, and I've been busy with appointments and with our teen visitors from Florida. But my well-worn Lilly and Tory clothes are freshly washed and hanging to dry, and my old light blue backpack is ready to go--I like it for biking to the beach. It easily holds a beach towel or two, sunscreen, book, water, money, even groceries bought at the general store off the bike path.
Sug is flopped down beside me, my good, true friend, and I've got a tall, tall cup of ice water. Here I go, writing a magazine article about Christmas shopping strategies. I'll let you know when the issue comes out in November.
Good night to you.
TCOY
- Boot camp in the park. Today, Patsy had us do three laps around the track, working out with weights in between the laps. We also boxed.
- Bought crumb cake for visiting teens' breakfast. Kept nibbling at it, so froze it, snugly wrapped in waxed paper.
- Felt overwhelmed, asked H. to step in and handle a couple of things--and he did.
- Private Benjamin. Tough but good.
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