Time and space

My snatches of computer time are few and far between these days, it seems. Whenever I have a chance to blog, I can't remember anything I was going to post. And whenever I have those great ideas, I can't get to the computer right away. Somewhat annoying, but less so the busier my life gets; perhaps blogging is - and rightly so - taking a back seat to my real life. Rather than watching things through a camera lens, as it were, to be enjoyed only in rewind mode, I'm actually savouring each moment for what it is instead of constantly sizing it up for blog material. Yes, surely that's it: a lapse in blogging indicates a healthy awareness of the passage of time and a renewed commitment to live life to the fullest.

Ha. Who am I kidding? CVS has become a full-blown craze, overshadowing blogs with a mighty vengeance, and the main things I want to blog about are the incredible bargains each week. But I'm not going to bore anyone with that, and I'm not going to post pictures, because that would look greedy and boastful and because it's already being done all over the internet. (Don't worry, we donate all the extra stuff to worthy causes.) (Um, okay, and then get a tax write-off, yeah. But other than that, it's totally altruistic.)

I tried an experiment a few weeks ago. With the price of gas spiking up every week, I was going to practise contentment by staying at home as much as possible, limiting my shopping trips to once a week or so, and focus on making our home as castle-like as could be. (Did I already post this? It sounds somehow familiar. I think I've gone through this particular resolve before.) 

Well, the experiment fell flatter than a pancake, and not in a pleasant, crepe-like flat-pancake way, either. We did not do well with those long days at home. I chafed at all the great deals I was missing, and felt nervous when the stockpile of diapers dipped down to dangerous levels. It's been too hot to walk to the playground at all but the earliest hours, and there are only so many hundred times one can read the same books without going stark raving mad.

So we ditched the experiment this week, and all are much happier for the result. Turns out I enjoy dashing out every day, and the girls do better with errands to break up the monotony of a long day. Running errands every day shortens the duration of each trip, so the time spent out is a pleasure rather than a torture. And our closets are once more full of tp, diapers, and organic tomato sauce. I think I might just scrape by with only five or six shopping trips next week.