Too busy

I'm late. Did you notice? The reason I am late is because I haven't had time to get a new post written or dig up an old one to recycle here. Well, I mean, I've had time, but not time I could easily or happily dedicate. I've had company--beloved family and friend. I've had other responsibilities. I've had a last-minute-what-fun shopping trip to Kokomo.

In other words, I've spent the past week smelling the roses.

I am "too busy" by my own design. I like doing what I do. Writing, wearing a pink jacket at Dukes a couple of days a month, sewing quilts with crooked blocks, having deep discussions with people who share my beliefs and values and with people who don't. Watching Jeopardy and going out and listening to music with Duane. Being that kind of too busy means I forget things (meetings), overbook myself (two lunches in the same day), and occasionally fall asleep before eight o'clock. It means I do things pretty much--it must be said--half-assed. I know that's not a very polite way of putting it, but it's definitely accurate.

And I have the best time. I played Farkle with the eight-year-old (he won), fried potatoes for the 14-year-old (he loves them), talked religion with the 44-year-old (he knows a lot more than I do), and worked a puzzle with the 43-year-old (I had to wait for her to come and get it started. It's hard.) I baked three loaves of banana bread, three loaves of pumpkin bread, and three dozen cookies on Saturday morning. There is half a loaf of pumpkin bread left,

So, yes, I'm late. And didn't have anything profound to offer this week. I'm sorry if I've fallen short--it does happen a lot. But I hope you have a great week and that if you didn't get the blog or my column read it's because you're having a wonderful time being too busy.