Dear Diary,

I went out for my normal knitting visit with friends, and managed to domino the rest of the day into oblivion.

I let my daughter get away with not working on her 4-H project.
I missed the bank.
I didn't stop for milk, which my husband really needed a shot of for the day.
I finished the errands so late I couldn't meet a friend for taking the kids to the Dinosaur Museum.

Then a friend posts in my feed the serenity prayer.

My dad had it on stained glass. It sat on the table, in bold, Catholic-window colors. It was a tri-fold frame, each pane with one part of the prayer. I didn't know it was a prayer each time I read it, which I did frequently. I know each line of lead, each pairing of colors. I can follow the ornamentation of the font. I think these words were the first things I memorized, etched into my mind as much as any education I've ever had.

Sometimes it's all in just remembering.

Dear Diary,

I have taken two plunges today, and bought a new mattress.

The mattress first: We're ditching our Sleep Number for a basic Sealy Posturepedic and topping it with a NexGel OrthoGel topper. It'll be awesome--in two weeks. *sigh*.

I have announced to those who might tend to expect things that I am going to try to go to the family reunion in Kentucky this year. Road trip! and camping. I'm already excited.

And lastly, I have fallen shy of my wordcount goal for the day by a mere fifty words. I don't want to start the next chapter yet. It is called "The Gospel According to Cassandra" where we learn what happens if we heed the advice of strangers. Maybe. I'm only to the third chapter. It might be something else in a while.

An Excerpt, for you, after the break: