Sometimes, the smallest events can really change my attitude about everything. Take, for example, the last post on this blog. I put it up a couple of days before we left town. It was, for the record, a picture of Red's feet as he fixed a minor leak in a valve on the back of our refrigerator. One that we discovered after coming home from a week to visit loved ones in Utah at Thanksgiving. I meant to post something humorous about leaky fridges and and my live-in-handyman. Of course, I didn't get around to it before we had Christmas (and all of it's associated chaos) and then left town again for a week. A week from which we returned to a true flood. A lift-the-carpet-to-dry-it-out kind of flood that leaves a particular texture to hardwood and stains that need to be painted over on walls.
In the midst of cleaning it up and eradicating the sour smell of wet house from the air, I lost my blogging momentum - and my ability to write witty things about small floods. I blame the sound of the fans and the creeping suspicion that our house might actually not like us very much. Or at least, not like being left alone.
I've vowed to change (not a vowed like my marriage vow, which I take quite seriously indeed, but more like my "eat less chocolate" vow, which only applies on days that I designate), and I will catch up and keep writing on this blog; if only so that my children will have some written record of what they did during their childhoods. But I'm not writing about floods.