Heptadecagon

I've had a great time putting together blog posts everyday for these first three months of 2017. And I do believe I said I'd blog each and every day for the entire 2017 year. But I have realized that by blogging each day, I'm not finding the time to revise my work, nor am I finding time to edit other people's work. Both of those scenarios NEED to happen in order for my work to grow. So here's the new plan. Starting tomorrow, April 1, I'll post a couple of times a week, and I'll keep up the Scenes from My Week post, since I enjoy collecting those photos as a way to keep memories in tact. Once I figure out what days work best for me, I'll try to let you faithful  readers know that posting schedule. FRN, I know you'll be disappointed, but I also know you'll understand. And maybe (just maybe), if I spend a bit more time on my actual writing, I'll eventually be able to tell you that I 1. found an agent, or 2. made the decision to self-publ...

Momma always told me to get a good education. "LilyAnn," she chimed. "Don't do what I did. I've got nothing but your papa, and y'll know he's questionable at times. What if you don't find that with someone? A decent relationship? With that unbelievable head of yours—" And here she'd point the stained wooden spoon or threadbare dust rag she had tethered to her hand in my direction, "—you should be able to get a good, proper, and useful education. That Bachelor's degree, heck, maybe even a fancy Master's or MBA. So you'll be able to support yourself if need be. Cause sometimes, the need be ." I listened to Momma every time her beautiful pink lips released those words into the muggy Georgia air, strung together like her own personal mantra. I wondered if someone had said "the need be" to her at one time in her life and the truth was that she just hadn't taken that phrase to heart. I tucked the thought in...

I'm sitting here in front of my computer, a little bleary-eyed, because in my haste to get downstairs this morning before the whining of the cat drove me to reach for alcohol instead of my coffee, I grabbed Aaron's glasses. His eyes are slightly worse than mine, but not by much, I now realize. So I'm going to try and work with the specs because if I go back upstairs to find my own, one animal or another will likely follow me, cause a scene (much like toddlers do), and then the child who coughed her way through last night will be woken up far too early. Ah, what we do for our children. What good can come from me wearing someone else's glasses? I'll  tell you what: I found a new frame. Any of you who wear glasses know how hard it is to find the right frame for your face. I had a pair of glasses that I loved so much I bought the frame in red and black and then alternated getting new lenses in each of those frames when I needed a new prescription. Last year, though,...

Not sure why, but I'm feeling a little off these days. I think these photos capture what I'm feeling pretty well.

I'm pretty sure my family believes we are the proud owner of a magic dishwasher. I can tell you we're not. It's a standard Bosch, bought in 2013 when we renovated the kitchen. We have to load the thing properly, add the soap, push the right button, and wait for the cycle to finish. The kids are mostly responsible for putting away the dishes when they are clean, but I'm not sure they fully understand how the dishes get in there in the first place. Over the last year or so, I've taken some time to show them how to load the machine properly. I've even showed them where the soap goes and which buttons to push. They can run the machine. My guess is, they just choose not to. And I have to ask why not? Doesn't the stack of dishes that piles up bother them? If this house were theirs, would they want me to leave a bunch of dirty dishes scattered around the kitchen? I can tell you, with certainty, that I'll be performing that experiment the first time I visit ea...

It's Tim's birthday. I won't say which one, but he isn't celebrating a milestone. (Although, shouldn't every birthday be considered a milestone? I mean, really, you made it through another year. That's awesome, right?) But he's old enough now (and I'm not far behind him) that I think, what ? When did that happen? I'd like to write something witty and wonderful for today, but I attended a writing conference all day yesterday, and I'm wiped out. So instead, Tim will have to enjoy this little video: (I would never be able to reproduce what you just watched. Happy Birthday, Timmy!)