Today is our 27th wedding anniversary, and as I said to a friend this morning, we were babies when we were married, which is why we are still so young today—just in case you were trying to factor an age and think we might be pushing toward being elderly.
It's also one of those days when lots of little things must be done, none of them very time consuming, but each of them of value. I'm fighting some kind of sinus thing that makes me want to curl up on the couch and close my eyes, and it makes my teeth hurt, which is an odd sensation, but I'm pretending this thing isn't creeping up on me. Go away, and leave me alone, I'm telling it.
On the list: bake cookies for my children even though they don't live with me anymore, ship some of those cookies, connect with someone about a meeting tomorrow, organize some thoughts about said meeting, send in my weekly column, open and close the garage door in a timely manner because it was painted this morning and can't dry stuck in one position, mail a gift to some new parents, drive Eustacia to her house in Berea, keep my eyes open and sufficient air in my lungs... See what I mean? Not big projects, but a fair-sized list of them.
And there is one more thing on the list—between here and Berea, Eustacia needs to gather photos of odd architecture for an art class. I have just the photograph to add to her collection—this is the main headquarters for Longaberger Baskets in Newark, Ohio. There seems to be a resurgence of giant advertising things like inflatable dinosaur lashed to car dealerships and fiberglass cows to help you spot a dairy. But here's a case where the giant thing is actually the building. Odd indeed.