One month and counting

Is there anything on earth more boring than a post on how long it has been since I last posted?? Not that it will redeem me in cyberspace, but I have been writing lately.

With a pen.

In a notebook.

That nobody else reads.

Oh my soul, is that the definition of freedom right there. "That nobody else reads." My notebook writing, it's not profound; it's not clever. I scribble and I write big and I scratch out the wrong word for a better word. There is something I just love about physically putting pen to paper. When I revise, I prefer to circle sentences and draw arrows to where they should go. Copy, paste, delete--just not as satisfying, somehow. You would be shocked at how much self-censoring goes on when I'm at a keyboard. [I just deleted two sentences, and you only know that because I'm making a point to mention it.] Wendy's blog, sanitized for your protection.

Are you bored with this glimpse into my writing process? I know I am; it feels self-indulgent and strangely artificial. But Maria wants the blog updated and she shall have it. I looked up cascarones, by the way, and made one with the one lonely egg we had in the fridge. I have to zip to the store in the morning because I need to make brownies for a play date, so by the end of the day I should have, um, four.

In unrelated news, I started working on our vacation pictures this morning. My regular photo-editing program was somehow unable to connect to the camera. Imagine my stress over that. Four hundred-plus pictures stuck in the camera, and I'm going scrapbooking with my sister in two weeks. I need these pictures, extra-pronto. I was going to try again tonight, but as it is now 1:15, I think I will wait until in the morning.