Okay...let's see...it's Friday. What to write about...hmmm...doopity doo, hum, diddity dum.
So, last night we got "Boo-ed." You know, where the neighborhood gets flooded with anonymous treats left on doorsteps with the instructions to "pass it on" and you know who to avoid because they put the Ghost flyer on their door that screams (sometimes literally! Okay, just kidding. Not literally.) "We already got treats! Leave us alone!" It's always nice to get anonymous treats. Always. Unless the treats were left by sadists who poisoned the larger-than-life chocolate and vanilla cupcakes. But I highly doubt it. Because I fed the larger-than-life chocolate and vanilla cupcakes to the children (and myself) for breakfast this morning.
Yes. Yes, I did.
And we didn't die! Neither from poisoning or sugar-overload.
Last night was book club and we discussed A Train to Potevka by Mike Ramsdell. (Remember how I met him?) It was a lovely discussion and our next book is going to be Master by Toni Sorenson, which is strange because we rarely read churchy books. Rare, rare, rare. Not that it's bad! It's just rare. Interestingly enough, it reminded me of this post, and makes me want to ask of you: Do you have a book club? Do you like it? If I was to start a quarterly (or monthly? or bi-monthly?) book club, would you join? This is assuming you live within a 2 hour drive of my home (Provo), of course, are willing to host a discussion in your own home every once in a while, enjoy good literature, and aren't afraid of questionable scenes or difficult topics (and if you don't know what I'm talking about, read that link I just left you. I agree with the author of the post!). That doesn't mean we'll read trash. We'll just read good stuff from all varieties of authors. Whaddya say? Oh! And the only other requirement is that you'll actually read the book. And you'll have to allow me to still be a part of my other book club, just like I'll allow you to join as many book clubs as you want.
Because who can get enough of books? Not me!
Remember how I was all happy and what-not on Wednesday? Yeah? Well, dear reader, life went all down-hill yesterday. Holy Cow.
Holy, Brown Cow.
It happens a lot, you know. Me being all happy and excited for life and then professing my happiness and excitement only to have the rug pulled out from under me as if Satan's all "Wait, what!? She's happy!? Let's tempt the snot out of her!" or maybe it's the Lord gently reminding me that I need Him.
I'll take the Lord part. I don't like that Satan guy.
It wasn't as if my life fell apart, per se, it was more just a lousy day. A bad day! And we all have bad days, right? I mean, I think about what I accomplished yesterday (dishes, some laundry, 4 piano lessons, a shower, carpool, sweeping, dinner) and I realize that it couldn't possibly have been that bad or else I would have stayed in my stinky pajamas all day and picked my nose.
Kidding about the nose part.
And although every once in a while staying in stinky pajamas all day and picking my nose (kidding!) isn't a bad thing, I try to avoid it at all costs now. Because it feeds my depression like pride feeds contention. Which, ironically, is actually connected to pride and contention; my depression is all about pride and contention within myself.
So, I had a bad day. Ah, well. It's just a bad day, yo.
Ups and Downs --ah, the consistency of ups and downs.
Have a great weekend, dear reader! I sure love ya'...