About two weeks ago, the laziness of my weekend days caught up to me Sunday afternoon: soaking up the sun all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday doing nothing more than breathing (and getting a tad bit burnt) made me antsy to do something.
I first solved this by finishing A Farewell to Arms. (It was spectacular and I highly reccommend it: Hemingway’s beautiful prose detailed a plot blending history and the emotions associated with love during war and made the book a simultaneously fascinating, vivid, and informative read.)
Having done a fair share of reading for the day I searched for things to do. At one point I contemplated cleaning, and stood in my family room looking at the little piles of junk that had accumulated on the ends of shelves, and were now acting as bookends.
One of such piles was holding up photo albums from past vacations — this gave me a brilliant idea. Late last summer, I traveled in France for three weeks with my family: it was the most specatular trip of my life, yet there was no album of photos by which to remember it. Photo albums for me though are a bit impersonal — its like, you have all the pictures there, but they’re jammed into pre-made slots and forced into groups of six on a page…
I decided instead of a photoalbum, to compile a scrapbook.
Anddddd (drumroll please…..) that’s what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks instead of blogging.
I finished the book just earlier today, and I’m actually quite happy with the way it turned out.
After tying a sparkly green ribbon around the book to hold it closed (and simultaneously showering my dining room table with sparkles), I hid it away until Father’s Day, when I will give it to my Dad– what could be a better way to say thank you for the trip and for being the best father in the whole entire world?