Today was full of little things. I didn't get anything big done, but lots of little things. Sent off two application packets. Mulched a flowerbed. Wrangled kids for some help in the yard. Scrubbed the basement stairs. Did some laundry. Worked a little. Looks nice when I write it all down.
Little things also have a way of surprising you. Something like writing the date. Like yesterday. It happens every year. Writing a check, dating a paper, I suddenly realize its May 14. The day my dad died. 26 years ago. It always catches me off guard. The I feel guilty. Because I don't remember what day my mom died. I know it was the first half of December 1989. Maybe because she died a sanitized death in a nursing home hundreds of miles from me or anyone else in her family, rather than collapsing in front of me. I don't know. It makes me feel bad. I owe her more than that.
We're supposed to be compiling favorite blog posts for a book of Blogstock attendees. I've been cranking out such drivel for the sake of Blog 365, and previously NaBloPoMo, that I can't think of any favorites. Do you guys have any? Look back in the archive linkies, or comment if you liked the one where I wrote about ________. I'm supposed to send them by May 23rd, so be snappy about it, would ya?