Trying Too Hard

Some times I try too hard to write something long, and I don't finish it. It's like starting to crochet an afghan and stopping in the middle with the needle still in place. But at least with an afghan, someone else with more patience and who knows crochet can pick it up and finish it based on the pattern. Writing usually doesn't offer that possibility. Someone else could finish my unfinished blog post (if they had my password), but it's highly unlikely they would do so based on the pattern of thought that was in my mind when I started it.

So as not to struggle with the guilt of having yet another unfinished blog post, I will simply say that today was a nice, normal day after a month of planning, traveling, and missing nice normal days. Next month will also fall short in the nice normal day department, so I am glad to take special note of this one. The sun is out, breakfast was good, I shopped, I sat outside with my mother, Tom, and the dogs, I pruned the roses bushes, I searched for ancestors, I read e-mail, and I wrote and published a blog post.