Friday, December 29, 2006

Almost Gone

2006 has only a few more days to go. And I will need to work on writing 2007 on things. Lucky for me (?) I have been stamping library books with 2007 dates for a while already. I know it's the time for *resolutions* but I have never been very good at making yearly decisions. Will this be the year I become a *better person*, *paint*, *lose weight*. I don't know. I will have new glasses if I ever get dressed and go out and pick them up.

Perhaps I should resolve to be up and dressed in *going out in public clothes* by a certain time each day in 2007?

I have done better with my journal writing but for a few months there have been no entries. I stopped around my birthday in September and never picked up the pen again. I got out all my canvas, stretchers and gesso and planned and hoped to do some painting. Instead, I have visited blogs of others who are painting.

I have tried --in vain-- to clean up the clutter in this house. Perhaps its a genetic failing as every member of my biological family has the same creeping clutter problem. Mine revolves around paper, fabric and art supplies. My Dad collects paper and plastic bags, cardboard boxes, string and empty jars (Depression Era). My son has wires, connectors, computers, game boxes, and DVD's piled up. My daughter has books and cats.

New News: My husband seems to be getting better. He has new and stronger penicillin and is napping less and looking less ill everyday. He has been going to work for 4 hours each day--all he can do-- and finished the BIG bowl of wonton soup at the Chinese restaurant last evening. And, if you can believe it-- his doctor called just minutes ago to see if he was okay. Yes, a doctor called to check on him.

I resolve to get dressed, go pick up my glasses and stop to get crackers, applesauce and bananas for my daughter who has been throwing up since 3 am. And that will be my day.

1 comment:

  1. The bland food was greatly appreciated. I spent the day in the Chair of Death, feeling like death, mostly looking like death. But better now. Some residual "ooh, I feel a bit like yarfing" moments, but back on my feet.

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