I must confess I haven't done any sort of productive writing this WHOLE week.  I decided to let myself do that.  The sun's been out.  Thus my yard work posts.  And I've had an emotioinal and physical need to be active.

And guess what?  I don't HAVE to write.  My life is happy and fine and productive and full without it.  
But I will - next week.
Why?
Good question.  
I do have answers.
But I don't feel like writing about them right now.
Because I'm on writing vacation.

I was able to work under the hood of our truck this week.
Grease is beautiful. 
Really, I feel alive when I play mechanic.
I'd go and get trained, but I don't think I swear enough.
Just kiddin, mechanics.  I like you guys except when you rip me off. (Cleggs in Springville.)

I did do a lot of things in the house.  Boring.  I know.  But I did.

And this week, I went out with 15 other ladies on Tuesday night.  First of all, Tuesday has never experienced such raucousness. ( I know it's not a real word.)  I can't tell anyone any details.  I was sworn to secrecy.  I'll just say that when you take 16 mothers out for a whole night together, tears of laughter are inevitable.  Because they're crazy!  There's all this pent up college partiness energy.  And our maturity levels fell to a 10 year old boy level.  Which actually, is a pretty fun age.

So thank you to everyone who added sunshine to my writing vacation.  It was a good week.