Tomorrow we leave!
Today we attend a ninetieth birthday party.
Y’all, I’m so excited for our vacation next week. I’m gonna have so much cool stuff to show you! In four days we’ll be seeing Tom Petty.
This year, we’re going northeast for our anniversary, starting with seeing Tom Petty in Little Rock, then lunch in Memphis on our way to Nashville for a week. We’re also going to spend a day in Louisville.
Any suggestions on can’t-miss attractions any of those places?
So far, we have a watercolor class in a Nashville park, the zoo, and some museums in Louisville.
I’m horrible with dates. I really am.Well, not important dates. I’m excellent at birthdays and anniversaries–real anniversaries, that is.
Remember in high school when couples celebrated their two-week anniversary and more gag-inducing scenarios like that? To this day, I still don’t understand how in the world they kept up with the dates. Granted, I didn’t have too many romantic entanglements in high school, but still.
Last Friday was the anniversary of the day my in-laws met, so a hard day for my father-in-law. But I don’t know how he remembers it. I only remember the day I met my husband because it was at his brother’s wedding. If we’d just met in passing I’d have not the first clue.
Anyway, today turns out to be my five year anniversary with WordPress. Five years and 1,062 posts. This one’s 1,063. One completed-enough-to-publish novel. Three novel drafts. One memoir-in-progress. Thousands of words, maybe even a million words. That feels like something.
A million words.
But five years and July 17, those don’t feel like such big deals. I’ll forget the date in a few days, and it’ll sneak up on me again next year. When I’m sure I’ll be just as nonplussed.
I mean, I’ve caught hundreds of Pokemon and walked dozens of kilometers in the past ten days.
Anyway, happy five years to me. I’m more proud of the 418 post streak I’ve got going on right now. I’d have the anniversary whether or not I wrote every day.
But hey, thanks for sticking around. I appreciate that.
We’re in Arkansas: North Little Rock, Sherwood, somewhere, I don’t know. It is seriously confusing driving around here. We went to dinner at a restaurant on the same side of the river as our hotel but had to cross the river twice to get back.
The last forty-five minutes of our trip was through a torrential downpour, no lie. Ian drove. We were about half an hour early, so we looked around at the flea market next door, where Ian found a Kirby Puckett card.
Then we went in and waited on the comfy couches for Katie to finish up my drawing and get everything ready.
But oh, it was definitely hurting by the time she was finishing up. I don’t know if I can do that to myself again. Maybe on my legs…
We haven’t decided what to do with the rest of the weekend; the weather’s supposed to continue sucking until Sunday, when we head home, so the zoo is probably out. Maybe the natural history museum.
Aaand the cable just went out in our hotel room. Told you the weather’s bad.
A little over a year ago, I posted about my piercings. And I said this:
Which reminds me of all the tattooed people I know who are dying for me to get inked up. Why do you do that, guys? You’re like junkies who need someone to join in on their next fix.
I don’t have any tattoos. I don’t have plans for any. I do have a couple of drawings I’d likely have tattooed on me if I were to ever get one, but they’re just not my thing. I haven’t felt the call of the wild tattoo.
You know what’s funny about that? Tomorrow is our ninth anniversary, and we’re going to Arkansas for my fifth tattoo. And I’ve gotten four piercings since our eighth anniversary. So at this time tomorrow, I will have gotten more tattoos than piercings in the past year.