Sunday, September 25, 2011

Jam Packed

The thing with writing this blog is that it forces me to stop and look at how we've been spending our days.  And although I have no deadlines, no blogger boss waiting for me to get my submissions in, or pressures, other than my own, to write and take pictures...my internal clock tells me its time to solidify our doings, to make them permanent memories before the moment passes and gets swallowed up into the past to be forgotten. 

   A day like this could not be forgotten...




The funny thing is that it always feels like I just hit publish post yesterday but in all reality time creeps by and before I know it the days have joined hands and called themselves a week.  And with no direct supervisor watching over my blog addictions I suffer no substantial consequence for weekly posts as opposed to daily posts except for the fact that words are constantly stringing themselves together in my mind and if I don't stream them into the keyboard they get lost.




I have started some of the decluttering that I've been wanting to do. Some days it feels like our house is going to burst.  Too much incoming, not enough out going.  And my decluttering and organizing mission was very similar to what happens when you Give a Mouse a Cookie...


If you pack up summer clothes, you need to carry them downstairs to the closet.  When you open the closet door, boxes and bags topple out all over.  While the rubble lays on the floor, you notice the bar in the closet has broke off the wall leaving no good home for vintage high school grad coats and years worth of bridesmaid dress wrapped in plastic. And while you're restoring order to the closet, your children tear apart every other room in the house.  So you decide to take out the trash and realize that it is a beautiful day.  You get sidetracked from your chores and head to the park. And while you're at the park you will want to take pictures.  And of course when you take pictures you're going to want to blog about them.  While you're blogging about your weekend you recall the boxes of summer clothes that you had packed up.  And when you remember the boxes...you have to carry them downstairs to the closet.


Our weekend was jam packed just like the downstairs closet but we managed to sift through the clutter and find the time to celebrate with Papa, explore in the forest, roll down the hill with Nana, play soccer in the backyard, and have suppers on the deck while we watched the trees' golden leaves sparkle in the evening sunshine. (toys on the floor and laundy...still haven't gained enough weight to tip the scale.)

 
 Now for a glass of milk.


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