If I don’t catch up on my backlog of posts soon, I might explode. I still have unfinished drafts about our trip this summer. And the Minnesota/Kidlitcon/Mankato/Margaret expedition! And Saturday’s fabulous Betsy-Tacy party at Readers Inc! And forty-odd CYBILs nominees to talk about!
What is a busy motherwriterblogger to do?
Ignore the drafts (again) and write about something else (again), I guess. Like Rilla’s sudden passion for Scotch tape. Four-year-old girl? Check. Pile of construction paper? Check. Endless stream of sticky creations? Check check check. They call it magic tape for a reason. I’ve got a very thick green airplane to prove it.
My cell phone spent the weekend in a bag of rice and seems to be more or less recovered from its hot-cocoa bath. Except that all my ringtones have spontaneously rearranged themselves. Scott’s used to be a Green Day song. Today when he called me while I was sitting in the eye doctor’s waiting room, “Magical Mystery Tour” blared out. I think the volume controls have been reset, too. And where my friend Alice’s calls used to elicit a soft, delicate Ave Maria, there is now a sailor’s hornpipe. Make of this what you will.
iPhoto is eating up all my laptop’s memory and causing everything to run……painfully……slowly. Which is about the speed at which my brain is moving to seek out a solution to this problem.
People keep saying Thanksgiving is this week. What is up with that! November only just started, I’m sure of it. I don’t know what you people are talking about.
In other news, I was hunting for the tiny screwdriver and checked the basket where I stick Things That Need to Be Put Away Later. Inside it were last year’s Advent candles. Um. Am I a housekeeping rock star, or what?
Well, they’re still pretty long. Think anyone’ll notice if I reuse them on Sunday? Because you know I haven’t remembered to buy the new ones yet.