Sunday
On March 26, 2007 | 1 Comments | http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post |

I had plans.

There was that letter I needed to write– the one that is almost overdue– regarding our upcoming trip to Africa. There were two thank you notes, two bills to pay, a photo to take of Everett’s art project, photos to download.

I hoped to send a quick note to my parents and include some of the children’s schoolwork; I hoped to do the same for Bill’s folks. I wanted to add to the list of links on this blog. I wanted to (finally) delete the Christmas music from my iPod and add some other songs.

I thought I might practice my violin. I also though I should cut my fingernails (which helps in the violin playing) and then paint them (because that’s nice). Emma Grace and I had talked about it, and we decided I’d do mine like hers: blue and a silvery mauve, every other finger. It’s Shocking.

I knew that I’d get some reading done ( Joseph and His Brothers— did you need to ask?) and maybe some of The Merchant of Venice and, if I really had extra time, I might dip into Children of Men, a book Bill and I are supposed to be reading aloud to each other but just aren’t finding time to do it.

We did go to church today; I did make lunch for my family; I did go through the piles and piles of papers my children have brought home from school. I did pick up Emma Grace from a friend’s house; I did play with her outside on the swing; I did enjoy a long-distance, long-overdue phone conversation with my sister in Alaska. I did relax.

And now it’s 10:30. Now it’s time for bed.

But it’s all right. Sunday will come again. Next week.

Comments 1
Jen Flem Posted March 29, 2007 at6:30 am   Reply

Do you know that I still remember the opening line of Merchant of Venice as an excellent example of iambic pentameter? “In SOOTH I KNOW not WHY I AM so SAD”. I remember Things Like That.

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