I have about a dozen blog-worthy stories in the queue, all fodder from last week's "vacation" to the DC area. Back in the day, when I first started blogging, I'd get all hot and bothered if I went a week without charting the "big stuff". I was quite dedicated to chronicling our lives and quoting my children. But right now? Not so much.
I'm too lazy to tell you about the museums we went to, the family and friends we spent time with, the sick and yuck we endured (not related to the family and friends time, I assure you), the cab driver who hit us on the way out of town. I am also apparently too lazy to take pictures. I just downloaded pictures from our week long trip--all 10 of them--and this is the only postable one.
Y'all, I'm tired. April is here, and I know I should be all "spring-is-so-lovely" and "oh-resurrect-my-soul", but all I feel like doing right now is taking a nap.
In other riveting news, I splurged on a new vacuum cleaner. I am embarrassed to admit the delight that washed over me after I'd collected canister of pet hair and various filth in just 10 minutes of vacuuming. Not so much delight in the filth, but in the fact it was no longer lurking in the carpet.
But enough vacuum talk. It's only reinforcing the urge to curl up on the couch and pretend like it's not Monday.
Did you know April is National Poetry Month? It's also Distracted Driving Awareness Month. So you're encouraged to read some great poetry this month--just not while you're driving.
If you don't believe in reading poetry, well, I feel sorry you. Then again, you're probably like, Save it, lady. The highlight of your week was getting a new vacuum cleaner, so really, I don't think you're in any position to be pitying people. Touche, imaginary non-reader of poetry. Touche.
For those of you who do believe in reading poetry, here is a little gift from Wendell Berry.
What We Need Is Here
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
I dont' know about you, but after a poem like that, I don't need a nap anymore.