Did I really say I'd write something every day this month?
I've been on a four-day weekend home with children, Friday and today including my 2 1/2 year old nephew. Friday I had considerably more enthusiasm for the task than I did today, but I finally acquiesced to the moment and read a book out loud for hours. Now, the boy is at home, and the girls are at someone else's home, NPR is on, and butternut soup is simmering on the stove top (this recipe involves Calvados so how could I NOT make it?), Jesse is taking out the trash and recycling, and I'm...on the computer. Huh.
I could be reading a book - I have several new ones. I could be reading that New Yorker article everyone is talking about. I could be sitting quietly, not listening to anyone whine. I could be eating my fancy-schmancy chocolate bar, with smoked almonds and sea salt, if someone hadn't STOLEN it.
Instead, I'm fulfilling my obligation in a very desultory fashion.