It’s late

I’m not sure what to do right now. Well I have plenty of things I should be doing, but I don’t wanna.

I recently read a short article on memory journals. Instead of just writing down and listing what you did that day make it a memory, or more of the experience. My example for the day would be:

I looked out the back door watching my two daughters exploring the insects. They stood on the concrete and jumped to keep the ants from getting them. Lilah was instructing Eden that “we should be nice to ants so they don’t bite us, and we don’t want to step on them because then they’ll bite you.” I pressed my face against the glass door and watched their youth. Then the duties of the laundry called and I left to fold clothes.
Later in the night Lilah trickled in. She needed new pants for hers had gotten dirty. Then even later Jon and Eden came in. Eden sat next to me and I could smell the outside scent of dirt and sweat on her head. I would like to say it was enjoyable, but little children don’t always smell nice. Cough, cough, and that’s literally what I did for a short period because of her smell of exploration and sweat.

Now this was not as nice of an example as the woman’s, but I don’t know if I can be as mushy as she was all the time.
Eden really did smell and for the sake of Carolyn I think I’ll give her a bath tomorrow morning.

Also just two months until Carolyn gets married. Which means I have two months to make two dresses and figure out what I’m going to wear. Ugh.

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