Daya had a dance performance yesterday. Her studio does an annual Autism fundraiser. It was a beautiful show.
It was raining quite a lot and I didn't take my camera, which does a much better job than my phone.
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Today was such a strange blah kind of day.
Carey and I both felt brain-dead but we also wanted to paint. So when I got home from the show, we had a paint date.
I even wrote a poem for it:
Dishes are clean
Laundry is not
It's time to paint
So I don't care.
We both thought it was a very good poem.
So Carey and I both showed up and the easel and we tried very hard for quite a while and neither of us could paint. We both forgot how.
Two hours in I gave up, apologized to the paper, and wiped it clean.
Carey was smarter and gave up on her lost cause a bit sooner.
We both agreed that at least we tried, and if we have to forget how to paint and fail, it's better to have company.
We are both hoping we remember how to paint again very soon.
Your poem is spot on for here. I couldn't care less about laundry until the underwear drawer is emptied. I have a deep drawer. ;)
ReplyDeleteI know you girls. You will remember how to paint sometime soon. I have great faith in you.
Good to hear Daya is still dancing. She must be fully recovered.