Being Good

Tonight, I was good. I took Luke for a walk to the park, and he went a-swingin'. He screamed in glee and was only mildly upset that I prevented him from licking the swing.

I picked some of the apples from our two apple trees and cut down some more dead branches (prune your trees, people!). The apples had moths or whatever it is that burrow inside them, but they were a nice size, and one of my goals is to find out what I need to do to prevent the bugs so we can eat the apples next year.

We went to the grocery store, where I picked up Luke enough food to last one, maybe two weeks. It was on sale and I had coupons. Crazy saving woman!

I cleaned up the kitchen, I didn't snack all night, I put another layer of finish on the dining room table. I was so good.

And what the hell does that mean? Why is it bad when I watch TV all night and don't clean? Why is it bad to not check anything off the list for a night or two? Maybe if I didn't think it was bad, I wouldn't worry about being good or bad so much.