I hate this armoire. Always have. It's too large to go up the stairs and I've never found a suitable place for it downstairs. It's our Art Cabinet, as we presume to call it, and it multiplies art supplies. I cleaned it out with plans to sell it or donate it or hire someone to bust it up for kindling. Now that it's empty, I feel a little more affection for it. It's now filled with possibilities. I'm not sure if I can let it go. As much as it rubs me the wrong way, it hasn't done anything wrong and I might miss it when it's gone. (I feel several potential country songs bubbling up here.) It's also the only piece of furniture large enough to contain that giant ass can of Playdoh.
I started this blog in February 2010 as a Lenten exercise in discipline. I posted something daily during Lent, whether I had anything interesting to say or not.
I also pledged to myself that I would dance each day during Lent. I walked away from the blog for much of the five years since. I'm inching back.
I am mistakenly called Stacy on a frequent basis by people I've just met, and sometimes by people I've known for awhile. I am Not Stacy.