My youngest daughter celebrated her birthday over the weekend. She turned twelve, but with two older sisters, she's well-versed in teenage drama, and we encountered a nice mix of teenagery attitude with pre-teen whininess. But nothing so far outside of the envelope that we failed to enjoy the birthday.
The weather was fantastic... they got to do a neighborhood scavenger hunt (though they complained about a couple of my hints), had visits from grandparents, stuffed themselves with tacos and cupcakes (and smoked chicken that my youngest loves, a gift from good friends), and capped it off with a sleepover. We encouraged her artistic bent by providing her a drawing tablet, and she immediately impressed me with her understanding of layers and opacity, how to use pen sensitivity, etc. She's a little sponge.
The dreaded family photo event took place on Sunday, and while there's always drama around that experience, it was much less dramatic than previous years. However, almost every location the photographer picked was crawling with poison ivy. I warned my family, but I predict itchiness in our futures. Lol, I'm scratching my arms just thinking about it. If you've never seen thick vines of poison ivy climbing a tree, they're actually quite impressive. (I didn't carry my phone or I would have taken a pic).
I failed to re-ignite my once-good writing habits, though I made some progress. Elliah finally got herself onto the river and is heading towards her density... I mean... destiny. (Name that movie). Thirty-thousand words so far, and I've barely scratched the surface. She still has so much of the world to see. The bottom line: I don't have much to report because I haven't written much.
Do you hate getting sneak-peeks? Does it ruin the story for you or whet your appetite? Or neither? For my part, I like to prove that I'm still trying.
o To-Do list for writing last week:
o To-Do list for writing this week:
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