The words that really apply this week are “flurry,” “fluster,” and “flummoxed.” As in, I’ve fallen behind—a flurry of emails and to-do’s and such. Meantime, this has me flustered. Add to that the notion that it’s December. I’m flummoxed.
Oh, let’s face it “flummoxed” is also a really good word, if you care about such things. Being a writer, I can’t help but care about such things.
With no further ado, three to share (you get it my flustered self has nothing more to say):
Last week was Thanksgiving and I wrote a blog post, my annual one that lists Thankful For… If you didn’t see it, you might find some extra gratitude yourself or something like that. I certainly enjoy the ritual of compiling that list on Thanksgiving morning.
Tonight is Nashville night and I’ve already listened to Aubrey Peeples singing “Tell Me” about ten times this morning. You can, too (and watch tonight).
I got to read a just one iteration earlier draft of this essay by my friend Karen Dempsey and now it’s up at Full Grown People. It’s the kind of funny and tender reckoning with young adulthood that brings you right back. I say, read it.
Three things I’m grateful for this week are my dear hubs, my readers (you), and the fact that winter morning skies are so glorious, almost enough so to forgive the freezing temperatures.
