Let’s start off the new year, and yes, I’m well aware we are on the 9th day of 2018, but let’s start my blogging year off right by taking a poll.
How many of you loverly people made New Year’s resolutions last year? Clearly, you can’t see me, but I am NOT raising my hand.
Now, how many of you actually stuck to the plan? If you are indeed raising your hand, you’re either a god amongst mortals or you’re lying like roadkill alongside a Texas backroad. IMHO, resolutions are surefire resolve killers. Or maybe y’all just have more sticktoittiveness than yours truly.
Anyhoo, once again, I have resolved nothing. I say this as my gaze lands upon the 7,000 WIPs in need of quilting; the 14,000 random blocks that need some sort of home (or trash receptacle); the 21,000 tomes lining the shelves in my closet (yes, I got the ‘man’s closet’ in the house and I know the shelves are for shoes, but…); and the 28,000 cross stitch kits and patterns I’ve accumulated since Houston. And who goes to Quilt Festival and buys cross stitch patterns. *raises hand, hangs head, smirks a little*
On the fitness front, The Diva has started me on a regimen of weight lifting. This child, who is now taller than me by a 1/2″ and thinks it constitutes feet, runs not only her mouth, but track as well. She’s smart as a whip, tall, slender, and fleet of foot. She wants me to take up running with her, but as I’ll only run if chased by rabid animals, this will not happen. So weight training it is. The kid has muscles for days and actual, real-life abs and the demeanor of a drill sergeant. She scares me. I may die. Then again, I’ll be the best lookin’ corpse the funeral home’s ever seen, amiright?!
I am still walking or maybe it’s more appropriate to say I’m still being dragged to and fro, mostly fro, by the four-legged German powerhouse, Ziva the dachshund. She, too, has a mouth that won’t quit and energy to match. Thankfully, I’m taller than her and have opposable thumbs, so I still have the upper hand where she’s concerned.
His Awesomeness is on the downhill drag of high school…yes, today is the first day of his last high school semester ever. I admit to feeling nothing even remotely resembling tears or nostalgia. I’m sure it’ll come. For now, he by turns makes me proud to see something of the man he’ll become and scares the bejeebers out of me by still being a teenaged boy.
So, what does this all mean?
It means you’ve sat here for a good five minutes reading about random stuff on my homefront. That, and a nickel, will get you absolutely zilch, you lucky dogs, you.
For now, I’m off to the sewing room aka the dining room, to cross stitch and practice squats by getting up and down to let Her Highness out to chase squirrels she will never catch. Talk about the definition of insanity!
Until next time, you lovely people…