The Ordinary Things, Like Crooked Lime Green Thread

Where do I want to go with this post?  It's 11:00pm and I was comfy in bed, but the writing bug hit.  I was thinking of how this darn blog gets the best of me sometimes.  A lot of times.  I can't keep up with it.  Or it can't keep up with me.  I don't know which.  I like the idea of making my new blog posts chronologically accurate, but that ever present concept on my to-do list seems to never get crossed off.  "Update the blog and make it good" is a self-induced pressure I'd like to live without.  And most of the blog ideas on my to-do list revolve around trips and events.  Things that are out of the ordinary.  And in that, my every day ordinary gets lost. 

Growing up I was very diligent about writing ordinary things on my 365 Kittens A Year calendar.  Every night I jotted down a couple lines about what I did each day.  Everything from when I had ballet class and Cameron had a baseball game to how long we jumped on the trampoline after school and what Mom cooked for supper.  Later my tastes changed and records were kept via 365 Days In France, but a calendar was always there hanging beside my bed with a pen attached and writing in it was part of my nighttime routine.  I loved knowing all those days were not lost in time.  Something from them has been recorded forever, therefore I could remember them better.  The art of recording events to evoke memories, no matter how brief or detailed, is a wonderful practice. 

After college I completely fell out of that practice and have been kind of disappointed about it since.  I think I thought this blog would fill some of that void in a new-fashioned way.  And I guess it kind of does.  I do have to be careful to not share too much on this very wide world wide web though.  Of course it's wise to reserve some thoughts for my paperback "Dear Diary" entries, but in the meantime I'll unleash more unleashable things here one the ole blog.  And will include things that don't always need chronological documentation.  The small things.  The ordinary things.  Because those things eventually paint a big extraordinary picture.  

With that said...

Last night I mended.  Full out sewed by hand with needle and thread.  Not a huge feat for some, but definitely a note worthy occurrence for me.  Last summer a hole in Matt's shorts pocket became so large his keys would fall straight through.  I stashed the defunct shorts in a bag with other "to mend" items.  None of the items got mended... until last night when a second hole appeared in the pocket of a second pair of shorts.  I was SO temped to take them to someone else to fix.  But I used my better judgement and conjured up images of my Mom busting out a needle and thread with ease, so I set up shop next to a lamp on the couch and went to town on those bad boys.  Lo and behold, crooked lime green stitching never looked so good inside white pockets :o)