Tag Archives: Planning

Bad Planning

This should have been a Some Thing 4 Sunday post.  Instead it’s another apology for missing yesterday.  Basically, I didn’t plan my time well.

8 on the 8th

Saturday was the Boodle’s birthday.  It wasn’t a big party day or anything.  Actually, his choice for the day was to play videos and games in his room all day, only asking us to take him out to Ruby Tuesday for a birthday meal.

No biggie.  We’d spoken with his well before about whether he wanted a party a while back.  He does, but he wants to have it at Hoffman’s Playland once the weather gets a bit warmer.  Weeeelllll….

Summer skies

Summer skies

He lucked out, but not because we’d considered our options well.  First I scheduled the celebration at another place he’d tried for a classmate’s party.  He changed his mind, and left me having to cancel that reservation (Thank You Station 082 for being so understanding about that) the week before the party should have happened.  Then, after I made that phone call, I find out that Hoffman’s might not even be opening this year

With a tentative first day on April 5th, the Hoffmans are opening their park.  We won’t be choosing that as the party day, obviously, but…  yeah.   It’s happening!

Bad planning and all…

ROW80 Check-in

A bit of backsliding this week…

  • write every day; at the minimum, do 5 sentences slacker
  • finish a complete (rough) draft of Courting the Swan Song  not much writing, but editing on track
  • make twice weekly blog posts (WIPpet Wednesdays and Some Thing 4 Sundays) making up for missing yesterday with this
  • maintain active sponsor participation on track enough
  • energize myself with more physical activity workout on Thursday, some dancing and exercise daily since
  • reclaim my writing space  one stack down!
  • go through some piece of my electronic home (desktop, laptop, server space, Dropbox, etc.)  nec rerum commutatio
  • laugh more, hug my family more, share myself with friends more…  lattes with the Burton Bunch on Thursday, and wonderful lunch date with my hubby Friday, birthday(?) on Saturday and out-laws came to visit on Sunday
  • attend chats and sprints on Twitter (at least one of each) made a sprint last Thursday

Some Words Sunday — When there is nothing

IMG_9191tweakSometimes…  too often of late…

Sometimes, I have nothing to say.

Today is one of those days.

Today I could talk about the lovely hike we took as  family yesterday  at Mt. Greylock, enjoying the early Spring sunshine and the rushing water of the Money Brook trail at the base of the Hopper Trail.

Today I could write about the joy my son showed as he went outside this morning for a little Easter Egg hunt that I woke early to give him.

IMG_9264cropToday I could write about the ROW80 and my plans for this upcoming Round 2.  I could write about my plans for the CampNaNoWriMo that starts tomorrow.

I could…

I won’t.  I have nothing.  The words aren’t here today.  Maybe they didn’t make it back down the mountain.  Maybe they got caught on the other side of the Petersburgh Pass.

We did take a different route home after all.

Maybe my words got lost along the way…

For now my fingers are chill against my keyboard.  They do not wish to move.   I scuff my feet on the rug beneath my desk to warm them.  I’m dressed in several layers against the chill.

My husband insists the house needs to be open and aired out despite the overcast skies and threat of rain.

Despite the fact that it’s barely 50° outside and little over 59° in the house….

So I have nothing to say.  The energy is being spent elsewhere.

I think my husband has it.  He’s stapling insulation to the ceiling of our “soon to be” new kitchen, a project several years in the making.

Sometimes there are so many things in one’s head that there is nothing to say because there are too many things to say.

Sometimes I have days like this.

More than I would like…

(That said, there is so much stirring in my mind this afternoon from the Anti-Rent War and what had been a truly feudal society in the Americas during the first fifty years of the United States’ existence…  and that it happened so close to this place I call home now.  War in its many forms seems to be a historical setting to everywhere I’ve lived.  That… and so many things are stirring my thoughts.  My head is a full and exciting place these days.  It just awaits some sense of direction and order.)