Last Thursday was one of those days. I overslept, couldn’t work in the morning, and ran late for the rest of the day. Blech. My kids left the reading lights on in the car the night before and it was dead by morning … nose-in to my overstuffed garage and DEAD. Uggh. Finding someone to jump start my car, and cleaning out the garage so that their car could fit in alongside mine, ate up more of the day. By the time 3 o’clock–and the school bus–arrived, I was beat. And grumpy. But I packed up the kids and my gear and headed to the Beaman Memorial Public Library anyway. I was presenting in my hometown, for the first time, at 4 o’clock.
Given the frightful mess of a day I’d had, I expected a small crowd … maybe no one. But forty feisty kids and their adults showed up to hear me talk about TRACKING TRASH and, my word, they were enthusiastic. Their energy got me going and by 5 o’clock the tide had turned and all was well.
Thank you West Boylston, Massachusetts. There truly is no place like home.