My dad asked me to wash his sleeping bag in my new washing machine. It doesn’t have a center post, so it can wash large items like blankets, etc. My dryer didn’t want to dry the sleeping bag so I have the bag flung over a chair.

They let me off work early today (which is weird that it was so slow in the middle of a sale). So, what did I do with my sudden day free?

More laundry.

Blankets, sheets, and more sheets. Now I have another blanket flopped over another chair. I feel like I’m living in a laundry.

And all I want to do is nap. But my bed is torn apart and being laundered.

So that’s my day. Laundry. And no nap. Although the couch is starting to look inviting.

I’ve gotten a lot of work done–between laundry loads–on an outline for the writing class I’m going to teach next month. Did some research, read some of my favorite authors on writing. And it’s amazing how often they all disagree with each other. There definitely isn’t one right way to write.

I’m preparing my notes for a beginning writing class I’ll be teaching next month. I want to share Anne Lamott’s idea of writing really bad first drafts. She calls them sh*tty first drafts. Notice how I didn’t use the “s” word? Yeah, that’s what I decided to write about just now.

Not long ago, a friend told me, “I noticed that you never swear. Why is that?”

Wow. I hadn’t realized I didn’t swear. I’m not particularly prudish about swearing. Other people swearing doesn’t offend me. All I could say in response was, “Sometimes I do.” Or I think I do, anyway. I definitely think swear words. But maybe they don’t come out of my mouth. lol

It gave me food for thought. Had I always been a non-swearer? Was there a time when I stopped swearing? I didn’t know.

To the best of my knowledge, I think I stopped swearing when I became a mother. Setting a good example for the kiddos was a high priority to me. I was surrounded by kids. My own. My kids’ friends. The 4-H Club. The neighbors. Everyone came to my house to play because we had the biggest front yard and the best snacks.

Swearing just wasn’t an option for me with all those impressionable little people running around. And once the non-swearing habit was firmly set, it never became an option again.

So here I sit, a full-grown adult teaching a writing class who can’t type the word sh*tty. I wonder if I’ll be able to say it in the class? Probably not without a bunch of apologizes and excuses and embarrassment.

There’s something that amuses me in this situation. 😃