One Christmas my brother got a kind of dollhouse, except it was for cars instead of people: you could park cars in a garage, fill them up at a gas station, and do all kinds of other neat things. I remember crouching on the floor in the narrow hallway between our kitchen and the front hall, next to the stairs that led to the basement, playing for hours. What exactly we did with those cars in that cramped uncomfortable space I don’t exactly remember, but I can still hear our mother marveling at how long we’d gone without fighting.
Sad, to think of that. I hope I kept that resolution.
Meanwhile, I still have vestiges of that super-organized self, and so I resolve this year to KEEP this blog going.
And to play with my brother.