I Should Never Get MarriedBecause I'm horrible at remembering my own anniversaries.
Blogiversaries, that is.
I can remember the birthdays of boyfriends long past. I can even remember the birthdays of kittens we've had—and the tally of cats that have passed through my life so far is over two dozen. That's a lot of birthdays. I know the day I bought my first horse (Feb 5, 2001), my second horse (October 1, 2002), and my third horse (May 11, 2005). I even remember the day I fell off of first horse and sprained my back (May 12, 2001), the day I received my Parelli Level One kit (May 24, 2002), and the days I injured my knees (November 16, 2005 and February 16, 2007).
But my blogiversary?
It was September 11, 2006. Last time I remembered IN September, at least. There was a chance of redemption. What is this world coming to, that I'm a whole month late?
My apologies, dear Blog. I have not been holding up my end of our relationship.
Then again, I've had little to blog about, unless you want to hear about how much money I made in FarmTown, or about the rotting subfloor in the deck room caused by letting the washer left behind by my short-term roommate sit out there for three years, silently leaking little bits of water I didn't know was still in the washer until it was moved out of the deck room to go live with my friend whose washer and dryer committed washer/dryercide this summer. Or I could tell you about the horrendous heat and humidity we had in August that curtailed my barn visits, or the month I spent attempting to de-hoarderize the house for my sister's visit which contributed to the curtailing (haven't seen the horse in two months!).
Well, I suppose I could tell you that the visit went surprisingly well, given our history, and it appears that a new chapter between us is being written. Of course, I take everything with pounds of salt and always keep my eyes open, but so far, so good, knock (on unrotted) wood.
Other than that, and finally realizing my life's purpose, not much has happened around these parts worth blogging about. Which ain't always a bad thing.