I was reading through the blogs on my Bloglines list, and I came across an excellent little meme. The blogger posted the first sentence of her first post for the first day of the month in 2007. I really liked the idea a lot. I even commented to the blogger that I was going to give it a go. And now I can't remember which blogger to credit. What a heartless thief I am, stealing good ideas without attribution. Oh, well, if you are said blogger, give me a shout out so I can correct my horrible misdeed.
Anyhoo, here we go. The first sentence (or maybe two 'cause maybe that's what I'll feel like doing) of each post on the first post each month.
January: In case you've been sleeping through it, hung over by a night of party more than 36 hours ago, it's 2007 now.
February: Warning! You are about to enter a blasphemy zone.
March: Our local weekly newspaper ran a front-page article yesterday entitled "What's the Matter With XYZ?" ["XYZ" being the name of the elementary school the older kids attend. No, it's not the real name.]
April: 1. The trampoline is back after its winter hibernation, which means the kids are running around outside. [I hope it goes without saying that running around outside is better than bickering inside. Even if the outside running around includes occasional bickering. Or repeated bickering. That I can’t hear.]
May: Thanks for this prompt, Ten on Tuesday. I’m not including any of the current crop of 42 people running for president. For self-preservation reasons, I'm ignoring the faux presidential election until the first of the caucuses and primaries are no more than 30 days away.
June: 1. There are people from my past that I don’t want to know what they’re doing today or who they are today. They couldn’t possibly live up to what I expected them to be. Because they can’t. No one can. Including me.
July: Many highlights of our camping trip this weekend to Santa Cruz. I do believe I've got enough for a special Camping Edition of the Weekly Wonderings. But I can't resist relating this one episode first as it typifies our typical camping outings.
August: It's always something in our house. "Something" that prevents the adults from getting a good night's sleep.
September: Because I’m never sure when it will come on, when the craving does appear seemingly out of nowhere, I always find myself having to remind myself of several things. One, breathe in. Two, breathe out. Three, I’ve quit. Four, it’s over forever. Kaput. Finis. The end.
October: Has another entire week passed? Wow, that went really, really, really…slowly. But Tuesday has finally come again, and that can only mean one thing.
November: First, a little whimsical take on the prompt from One Deep Breath, and then one that breaks my heart.
December: 1. The setting: Sunday at the communion table at church. The players: lots of kids and a hip priest. The action: hitting, choking and whining.
Wow, that was a lot of fun. Of course, it reminds me that I have to save those damn archives somewhere in case one day I just decide to delete the blog. I need to have something to give the kids' shrinks when they reach the age of majority.