Bless me friends, for I have sinned. It’s been seven days since my nest emptied and in that time I have:
Not cooked a single meal. Not one. Wednesday night I boiled three cobs of corn so Vince and I would have a little something to gnaw on during our Fantasy Football draft but, other than that, nada. Nothing. You know what I served with that corn? Salt. I rock.
Not sorted through a single closet. I mean, I was itching to dig through the clutter — maybe toss a few pilly sweaters last worn by the boys during the winter of ’96; donate some snazzy flannel; tenderly pack away the cute little puffy-sleeved, big-bowed party dresses. But, like cool calamine lotion, friends came calling and I just walked away.
Not organized my photos. None of them. The printed pictures still rest haphazardly in shoe boxes and, inexplicably, in one large, ripped, birthday bag, on shelves in the basement. And, the digital images still live precariously on my external hard drive because, though I meant to research cloud storage options, I just haven’t had time.
Not weighed myself. Frankly, I don’t want to know.
Not addressed the “garden” issues I wrote about, which elicited such kind offers of help. I wander back there now and then to pluck a cherry tomato, but it’s still a mess. Mea Culpa, neighbors. Some day.
I’m not even sure what happened. I blinked, a week went by and I had not crossed a single thing off my to-do list. Let’s be honest, I had not even written a to-do list.
I firmly intend, with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin.
But, it’s Restaurant Week in Appleton, and the opening week of the NFL, and on Saturday we’re Walking for Wishes and celebrating birthdays and Open Houses…Our nest is empty but our schedule is full.