I always tell my blog friends to write even when they don’t feel like writing. That the daily habit of writing actually keeps the juices flowing better than anything. So, tonight, when it seems I have nothing to say, I’m writing anyway. Together, we’ll see where this goes.
I haven’t taken many pictures this week. These pictures are from Monday when we went to my father-in-law’s and had supper.
A kitten got dumped there and Tess loved it. Maybe she loved it a little too much. We did not take it home with us.
I just got home from Ladies’ Bible Study. We have such a great group of women at our church. Tonight we talked about friendship, about being a good friend. We were supposed to ask ourselves if we would want to be a friend to ourselves.
I get so caught up in the busy stuff of our week that I feel like I rarely take the time to be much of a friend. If I’m stuck in the car on a long drive, I’ll reach out and touch one of them with a phone call.
I’m not very thoughtful either. I rarely remember birthdays (except for Facebook when I type happy birthday along with 300 other friends). I recently found out not only is my friend Ruthanne always uncomfortably hot at my house, but Suzanne suffers from this same misery when she visits me. Obviously, I isolate my friends by making them too uncomfortable to come over.
I didn’t know I was going to write about friendship tonight. Just look where your thoughts can go when you sit down at the keyboard.
On the way home tonight, which is what I really thought I would tell you, I was listening to a mystery book on my ipod. As I drove the headlights from other vehicles played with the shadows in my backseat. I glanced nervously in my rear-view mirror several times.
I thought I heard noises, back there, in the silence that is usually filled by noisy children.
As I neared my driveway, eager to finally be home around people, I turned on the blinker and accidentally also flipped the rear-window wiper switch. The squeak, squeak, thumpidy noise it made nearly made me wreck. I jumped a foot out of my seat and swerved to the shoulder.
I drove up my driveway sweating, embarrassed and nervously giggling once I realized it was only the rear wiper and not a murderer hiding in my backseat.
You ever do something when you’re alone and make a fool of yourself?
