So here I am.  Still alive.  Kicking.  Or something.  Trying to remove myself from a Facebook-induced writer's slump.  Not that I'm such a great writer or anything.  Anyone who writes this choppily probably shouldn't be calling herself a writer.  Or a grammar nazi. 

Anyways, I was inspired to post because of (get this) dog poop.    Left by the ditch in front of our house by some (it is assumed) slob who can't pick up after their own pooch (is that a mean thing to say?).  Thankfully, neither Auggie or I stepped in it, but as we were continuing on our "morning constitutional", I reflected on the necessity of training our children to be good neighbors.  This is best done by example, in my humble opinion (did that sound prideful?).  Somehow, somewhere along the line, apparently my mom showed/taught me to be a good neighbor.  I pick up after our dog (actually, there is a city ordinance requiring that, thank you very much!), I return grocery carts to their rightful places, I put clothes back on the rack in the store if I knock them off and I refold any item of clothing that I may be examining while shopping.  That's not an exhaustive list, but I think you know what I mean.  And, amazingly, my DDs all do the same.  I suppose it could be boiled down to a "leaving the world a better place than when you found it" sort of mentality.  But I prefer to think of it as simply following the Biblical principle of putting others before yourself, the way our Lord did for His people.  God is good......all the time.       

Hmmmm.  I think I need to redefine what normal is around here.  It may take me awhile.   Yesterday and today were designated "Wash and Sort the Tablecloths Days".  All thirty of them.  I am now a self-proclaimed expert at folding 70-inch round tablecloths.  It ain't easy.    Yesterday, I also made a round trip of about 80 miles, returning rental plates, water pitchers, a cake stand, and tons of serving dishes to their corresponding origins. 
Of course, in between the laundry loads and errand-running, activities of daily living pull at my attention.  Occupational therapists refer to them as ADL's.  I refer to them as the blessedness of routine.    If I didn't, they would just annoy me.  Instead, I remind myself of a series of talks I heard several years ago, describing the "routineness" of God's created order.  The sun rises, the sun sets.  The seasons come and go.  Flowers bloom and die.  On and on it goes.  The blessedness of routine.
God is good..........all the time.