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Giving Up and Giving In

seasons of the abbey

I admit that I eat Nutella off of a spoon, several times a day.

I admit that I was the one who left the sports-car shaped gouge in the garage wall at the house on the pond 15+ years ago, and not my brother M.

I admit that I can not knit ribbing in the round on double pointed needles.

I admit that when I feel particularly rebelliously lazy, I don't recycle...and then am plagued with guilt, so I end up fishing things back out of the bin.

I admit that I can not do everything, particularly now when I can add blacking out to my ever-growing list of pregnancy-related symptoms.


I admit that I have resorted to hiring a cleaner to come and help once a week as I can not be this sick and work and take care of a toddler and have a clean house.

I admit that I feel incredibly guilty about getting help in this manner.

I admit to looking forward to returning to a clean house tomorrow after the cleaner has been in.

I admit that I was one of the people who stole pumpkins from Mt Vernon at Halloween and then decorated the Lisbon school bell with them (the other 2 know who you are!).  And yes, I was secretly thrilled when the picture of the decorated bell was on the front page of the local paper, with a headline to the effect of "School Celebrates Autumn"

I admit that I have to accept the smallest achievements as success, even if today's was actually finishing the pair of toasties I started 2 weeks ago and deciding they are ugly.

I admit I need to practice what I preach.

I admit that I read the end of books first to make sure the endings are happy and I do not ever watch movies that have sad endings. 

I admit to add gratuitous and unrelated pictures to this post to deflect any real attention to details on the part of my readers...especially my mother on the admission about the car.

Quoth the Raven

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