Tag Archives: nablopomo 2010

Music, National Blog Posting Month

We’ve come to the multimedia updates

3 Comments

NaBloPoMo 2010Every year it comes to this. National Blog Posting Month drives me to listing the songs my iPod is currently playing. (See: Nov. 18, 2009). I’m just pleased that we made it this far without resorting to it. Anyway, here you are. Ten songs my iPod played this morning.

  1. Dancing Queen, Abba.
  2. California Girls, The Beach Boys.
  3. Spilt Needles, The Shins.
  4. I Saw You in the Wild, Great Lake Swimmers.
  5. Masochist, Ingrid Michaelson
  6. Pig Island, Scott Bakula
  7. Catch that Train, Dan Zanes and Friends
  8. Wolves, Iron & Wine
  9. See the Sky about to Rain, Neil Young
  10. A Man Needs a Maid, Neil Young

Tomorrow: 15 ways to butter a slice of bread! (Not really. I can only think of three.)

Family matters, National Blog Posting Month

Failure to launch. But it’s mostly OK.

4 Comments

I alluded the other day to my plans for the weekend. I was supposed to be doing something like this:

Photo courtesy WomenOfFaith.com
Photo courtesy WomenOfFaith.com

Instead, I am doing this:

That's me, sick in my bed. With awesome sheets.
That's me, sick in my bed. With awesome sheets.

My new friend Cintia, whom I met at the Type-A Mom Conference, invited me to go with her to a Women of Faith event. I went to one quite a lot of years ago — eight or nine, maybe — with a group of women I hardly knew NaBloPoMo 2010at the time. I don’t remember much of the event itself, but I do remember the very emotional prayer- and tear-a-thon we had in the hotel room. It may not sound all that lovely, but it really was.

I was looking forward to sharing that sort of thing again. But then I woke up this morning feeling like a flaming bowling ball had lodged itself in my midsection. I’m not sure if it was nerves or something I ate or a bug. (I’m leaning toward Something I Ate. Rockford thinks I might be lactose intolerant. He’s usually right.)

Whatever caused the problem, though, I spent most of my morning laying in bed, shaking my fist at my bad luck and being angry at myself for being too weak to power through it. Then my daughter came in to bring me a drink, pat my head and tell me she hoped I was feeling better. And I realized this: If I couldn’t be there, at least I am here with my sweet family.