It’s been raining for four solid days. Real rain, in big fat drops that just don’t stop. One of my favorite things is to cuddle in bed under fluffy flannel sheets listening to the rain on the roof. So it isn’t all bad. But I really need to get my butt outside.
My gym still isn’t set up.
It’s no one’s fault, really. Walker finished the cleaning, and I must say the garage looks so much bigger now. But before we got anything moved in our neighbor stopped by to invite us to participate in a group rummage sale. We hadn’t planned on doing anything like this, but my mom had a stack of boxes already tagged in her basement, so I collected those, set up some card tables, and we were ready to go by the weekend.
The first day went pretty well, but the rain started on the second day, so we didn’t move too much. My mom decided that since it was all set up she wanted to try again this weekend. So we still have tables full of, ahem, unique, well loved treasures, all over our garage.
This kind of thing is very typical for us. We formulate a plan, put said plan into motion, and watch it die a slow death as more pressing things crop up like so many dandelions after a rain. If we got bonus points for good intentions, we’d be winning the game. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that.