Paved with good intentions

I think about writing...really, I do. I think about it when Winnie says 'baby,' only her third word, or when Jed goes to the dentist for the very first time and is an excellent patient. I think about it when we get a new car, and all my fears and dreams surrounding it, or when I hear about a good friend being sad, and words of encouragement well up inside me. I think about it when my porch is all gone, and my days are full of the echo of saws and hammers as we anticipate a new one, or when I just got the lamps I've wanted for so long. I think about it when I get all addicted to yet another TV show, and when I am excited about friends and family coming to visit. I think about it when my days seem hopeless, and days when my spirit is as sunny as the sky over Sacramento in March. I think about it when I realize Easter is around the corner and Cadbury's mini eggs are on the shelves once again, only now there are also dark chocolate ones, but I don't think they are very good. I do think about writing. The problem is, if I think about it too long, the moment passes.