My blog is mirroring my life. I have four posts waiting for final edit, one I started in June. If my draft blog posts are anything like the light fixture on my porch they will languish in darkness for another four years.
If they're like broken windows, I may get to them sooner. Today the repairmen replaced the glass my son claimed to have broken while sleepwalking in May.
Others are like the mums I bought from the elementary school plant sale. I attend to them immediately so they won't dry out, turn brown and die.
Thankfully words are more flexible than flowers and here I am writing a post for the first time in weeks. I will silence my compulsive editor and hit the Publish button before going to bed. The electrician, whose number has been on my task list since August, just may get a call tomorrow.
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