Friday

My grandbaby, Lilyana.

Here comes Friday. All day. Goodie!

We have a short homeschool day. He's finishing his outline about Eleanor Roosevelt.

Our son sends me photos from his Blackberry. I like this one a lot. She's a pretty little thing and she's got lips that'd put Angelina Jolie to shame. Boy, if I had lips like that I'd wear lipstick every day.

Our son talked a blue streak on the phone tonight. I miss him.

There was a coyote yapping right outside a few minutes ago. I opened the door quiet as a mouse, but he heard me and stopped. It was pitch black and I couldn't see him. Darn it.

Lately, I've been wishing for an endeavor of my own. Something. But I don't know what so that doesn't help me at all. I love homeschooling, for sure. And this is a season in my life. I know that. But can't some chapters blend a little. I was thinking of offering to do something at church, to serve, but I don't know what they need. Besides, twice I've helped at a church and twice it turned out badly. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.

One time I redesigned a church web site. I improved navigation, made the pages uniform, added some animation, and made it more appealing. The pastor loved it. Their webmaster wasn't happy with it though. He was mean. He was there long before I was and he was not pleased with my enthusiasm. I left and went to a new church up the street because he hurt my feelings so much. And then here, I was the photog for VBS last year and after taking photos of three hundred little kids having fun for five days, I put together a video and on Sunday the sound girl proceeded to play it all the way through on fast forward. I don't even like taking human pictures, but I did it cause they asked me. If I offer to help out at their private school I'm afraid they'll put me in the library entering books into the computer with Dewey decimal numbers. I did it one day just to help Helen out. It was so dull I could hardly stay awake. And once the pastor asked me if I wanted to be in the chorus because he saw I like to sing, but my voice is awful. I don't know how he could think to ask me to do that? And it's a teeny chorus. If someone heard my voice it would be a bad thing. Helen, now she sings pretty.

So I'm reluctant to take action. I'll just complain to myself some more I guess. This post should be rightly titled "Dissatisfaction with Self," but I like "Goodie, it's Friday" better.