Glorious planning

I looked forward to the task of planning my summer with relish (not the kind you put on hot dogs, the other kind). 

Planning our days for the summer is a delight.  My intentions are not very complicated because I've learned from sad experience not to be too elaborate or ambitious.  Simple or not, there's just something so satisfying about mapping it out.

I have a loose schedule book ended by swimming in the morning and silent reading time after lunch (which is like dessert).  Then they can do whatever they want for the rest of the day.  In between there will be writing and piano playing and Lego challenges.  There will be weed pulling and flower watering and housekeeping.

I even created little charts that have a brad clasp in the center.

The Ginga is Mark.  Red haired ninja.  Maybe it should be spelled Ginja?  I don't know.  

There is nothing as lovely as a little brad clasp chart.  Unless it's a page protector.  Office supplies make me giddy.

(So does planning.  It is comforting in an uncertain world.)

I agree with Dwight D. Eisenhower:

Plans are nothing; planning is everything.