Flurry, not snow

Last night, I fell into bed at about 1:15 a.m.  I got up with my kids at 7:45 a.m., then marched through my day with determination.  I drove my daughter and her friend to school, came home and finished drying my hair, then headed out to the grocery store with a little pile of coupons.

Upon my return, I picked up the trash dotting the side of my driveway.  (Kids!)  Then I dragged in the trashcans, cleaned out the van, replaced the fallen cupboard door in on the bathroom cabinet, vacuumed the living room and family room, participated in a telephone conference for my job, put away groceries, picked up my daughter from kindergarten, cleaned up the kitchen, did loads and loads of laundry, worked for four hours, cooked dinner (chicken in the Crockpot, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole), sorted through the basket of papers on my desk, chatted with my husband, put away all the laundry, carried more dirty laundry downstairs, read The Year of Magical Thinking (Joan Didion), and worked for three more hours.

Such a flurry of activity!  All because I’m going out of town Friday afternoon.  I’m driving to Bellingham to spend the weekend at a scrapbooking retreat.  Did I already tell you this?  Oh, wait, I did.

Anyway, that’s where I’ll be. . . apparently, they have wi-fi there, so I may be checking in.  Then again, I might not.

And when I get home, the house will be a disaster and the milk will all be gone, but I’ll have a completed 2005 scrapbook to show for my time away.