Nothing Much

I feel like I should at least get it together once a week (if not more) and post, but I couldn't think of anything very monumental to report. So I kept waiting for something BIG to happen, but it didn't (and that's good, Sally, duh), so I'm writing about how I don't have anything to write about. Am I experiencing writer's block? Or does one who writes once every five months in her blog really considered a writer?

I'm taking hubby to the airport today for a three-day business trip. I've got kid and cleaning duty while he's gone, but I'm excited to have a couple days to get this house in order after we had several rooms painted, and if it doesn't rain I'm anxious to get my clothesline up and start tackling stains so I can start preparing for my big annual garage sale. I really thought that by giving away an entire truckload of stuff last year, I wouldn't have enough to have another sale, but alas, the growing mound in my garage is telling me otherwise.

I do have a propensity for amassing large quantities of unnecessary things, a quality at least one of my sisters can't understand. Not that I can. I'm not a pack rat. Really I'm not. But I am easily bored (or is is bowad?) and I'm forever changing my mind about decor or switching things out, which means new things in, old things OUT. And I'm not wasteful, which means those old things are sold and not thrown away. That's just the way I am. Call it frivolous...

Due to my extreme busy-ness, I have been healed of my obsession for buying stuff at other garage sales. That's good, right? Now we just have to work on my problem with walking into IKEA for one thing and leaving the store with 5 bags full.

Okay, see you next week. Or if my kids do something BIG, maybe sooner.