I spent a good part of the day painting the trim in my bedroom. It feels like a crime to paint the old wood. There's lots of good reasons to paint it, but it makes me a little sad.
Sam's birthday is on Sunday and Jason's birthday is on Monday. They're going to be fifteen and eight. I haven't bought them presents yet. Ben and I want to go to a little toy store in the mall to buy something for Jason. Sam is a lot harder to shop for.
Piper is my trouble-child again. I was starting to think she was mellowing out, but she's been a hyperactive mess ever since we moved. She hates staying in the kennel and she yanks and pulls me all over the place when I walk her around the neighborhood. She's always whining, crying, howling, sighing, and generally making it known that she does not approve of our new life choice. It reminds me of her puppy days when I had to chase her around the yard and stuff her into her pen and she would howl belligerently at me. I thought those days were over and our battles were ended. But they've just begun. Right now she's lying on her blanket next to me and she's sound asleep. She's beautiful and adorable and funny and I love her. But I wish she was more prone to being calm and unflappable like Pookie. Hopefully her behavior will start improving with lots of love and hard work. I think it probably will, but it will take time.
There's not much to do these days. I daydream and make plans in my head. I do my chores and work in my bedroom and spend lots of extra quality time with trouble-dog. I read books and I read blogs and I put words and sentences together. I listen to music. I think of the future and I try to enjoy the now.
It's 7:33. About two hours till bedtime. There's a persistent rumor concerning chocolate chip cookies. Piper is awake. I think I'll drag her upstairs with me to read Tender is the Night or Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy. To clarify that, I will read and she will sit on her blanket and look at me with sad brown eyes and her best tragic face.
See you around. <3
What I'm listening to . . .
Written by Lydia at 7:43 PM