So tonight I’m gonna party like it’s… oh nevermind. Since it was my first year at it, I was rather spotty. The only months I wrote in were:
January Lots of church stuff.
August Busy rambling brain dumps.
October I sound real depressed.
November Loads here of everyday long entries, the best being the funny family stories one.
December Holiday craziness. Ignore the weird characters, and I seem to be getting into the swing of things.
I owned a craft store that I ran out of a room in the basement, with a door right to the outside so people could walk right in. After they came down my hidden driveway out in the middle of the woods, that is. I had a website, too, and this was a little before the freely available software to manage it well, and decent webspace. I spent most of the year innundated in paperwork and trying to keep up. I did weekly craft classes and put up cabinets in my kitchen. The kids turned 12, 9 and 7.
There was no Emma.
This was also the first year Addison went to public school. He was in grade seven. I was quickly burning out on the homeschool end, as we used an expensive packaged curriculum, and rather than do the smart thing (which really would have been to toss it sooner) and get the older child to not write in the book so I could re-use them, I spent an insane amount of time obliverating the answers and erasing the whole thing.
Over the big gap in the summer, and something exciting that I never did write about, Ron and I went to Calagary (yeah, a few thousand miles away) for the weekend to attend a trade show for the craft supplier industry. I guess that was the end of May. They still have one every year. I met Sue Warden, too and gave her one of our business mugs.
We had to do a real juggling act with three sets of babysitters, including our neice Betty Jo, to look after the children while we were gone. It was the first time in a long time that we had gone anywhere overnight, let alone out of the province together. We got back on a Sunday night, long after the kids were asleep.
I was awakened the next morning by the sound of Meaghan crying and snuffling. I ran into her room to console her. Oh, how I missed her! What a horrible mother I was, leaving my babies. I’d never do it again, I promised. I hugged her, stroking her back, whispering, “It’s okay, honey, Mommy’s here..” over and over again. She finally found her voice and pulled away from me, incredulousness on her face.
“No! Not you! I miss Betty Jo!” and the wailing set on again.
Yeah, those were crazy times.