I was thinking today that I might want to write something. I know that writing requires patience, practice and, above all, persistence, but I haven't been very good about any of those things lately. I looked up Sabrina's blog for some inspiration, but she hasn't updated either. I read some poetry about bees. I thought about what I might want to eat as a snack. I read my last blog post about butternut squash soup. I poured myself some wine. I'm not sure if the wine will be my snack or if it will just make me want a snack more, so we'll see. My last post was from October and it was about butternut squash soup, which is what I made for dinner tonight, which brings us full circle, four months later, to my neglected blog.
Coincidentally, my last post also talked about Ayla eating playing cards and today I am sitting in front of a 1000 piece puzzle minus 5 pieces that Ayla ate as a snack over the course of it's construction. 995 pieces isn't too bad, right? She's looking at me, exasperatedly from her bed. I think she knows that I am writing about her. Today we played out in the yard with the upstairs dog and I was the goalie, keeping Ayla from jumping the low part of our fence. Originally, as I was writing this, I wanted to call it a chink or cranny in the fence, but it's really just a case of low-hanging chicken wire. So much for my Shakespearean reference for the evening...
Fact: I downloaded A Midsummer Night's Dream on my Kindle last week. It was free. I might even consider reading it after I'm done with Miss Perrigrine's Home for Peculiar Children, which is a story for another day.
Coincidentally, my last post also talked about Ayla eating playing cards and today I am sitting in front of a 1000 piece puzzle minus 5 pieces that Ayla ate as a snack over the course of it's construction. 995 pieces isn't too bad, right? She's looking at me, exasperatedly from her bed. I think she knows that I am writing about her. Today we played out in the yard with the upstairs dog and I was the goalie, keeping Ayla from jumping the low part of our fence. Originally, as I was writing this, I wanted to call it a chink or cranny in the fence, but it's really just a case of low-hanging chicken wire. So much for my Shakespearean reference for the evening...
| In this same interlude it doth befall | ||
| That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; | ||
| And such a wall, as I would have you think, | ||
| That had in it a crannied hole or chink, | ||
| Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, | ||
| Did whisper often very secretly. | ||
| This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show | ||
| That I am that same wall; the truth is so: | ||
| And this the cranny is, right and sinister, | ||
| Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper. |
Fact: I downloaded A Midsummer Night's Dream on my Kindle last week. It was free. I might even consider reading it after I'm done with Miss Perrigrine's Home for Peculiar Children, which is a story for another day.
