Failure
Do you think failing once makes you more likely to fail again?
Because I forgot to take a picture again.
This time I actually said to Michael, "I need to take a picture. I didn't take a picture today."
Then I promptly went to bed.
So, here's a picture from several weeks ago that I never shared. It's my new swing that we attached to the big oak in our back yard. I love it. The branch is shaky and I'm not 100% sure it's safe, but I still love it.
We're at the lake this weekend, but since I feel bad that my last few weeks of posts have been kinda half-hearted, here's something I wrote on 6/24. This going back and finding older stuff that I can post is pretty handy. Is it cheating?
Because I forgot to take a picture again.
This time I actually said to Michael, "I need to take a picture. I didn't take a picture today."
Then I promptly went to bed.
So, here's a picture from several weeks ago that I never shared. It's my new swing that we attached to the big oak in our back yard. I love it. The branch is shaky and I'm not 100% sure it's safe, but I still love it.
***
One of my fish died tonight. Now the other is alone. He wasn't really my fish -- he was my mother's, the last one left of a tank full, who got shepherded off to the daughter in a mason jar. He lived a good, long life -- for a fish. I wonder if he knew he was dying, if he said to his tank mate,
"Well, old fellow, this is the end. They said we wouldn't make it, you know, the blue pet store placards that predict aquarium compatibility like an OKCupid match score. 33%. Incompatible.
"But here we are, a good three, four years together? That girl threw us together out of laziness, half expecting to have to break up fish fights or nurse broken fins back to life, but we flourished in our little dirty tank, me occasionally nipping at your tail to keep you young, you coquettish* thing."
This fish is very flamboyant.
Beside me, my dog stretches and leans against my leg. I'm always happy, in my bed with my dog and my notebook, and my husband on his way home. But I wonder if my other fish is lonely, now, all by himself in a dome of water. Pressed down on all sides by water, and plastic, and light.
*I can't believe I really wrote the word "coquettish," but that's what it looks like in my notebook. I'm trying not to edit myself as I write so I don't get caught up in second-guessing everything, so I'm just going with coquettish.