Torrin was at school goofing off, refusing to follow directions. So I had to go pick him up from the Principal's office, all 7.92 years of sobbing mess Torrin. He filed a stack of folders for me. The task initially seemed insurmountable, but by the end he was doing all right, not asking for help alphabetizing anymore.
The Festiva Project plods along. I don't often see undocumented Festivas these days, and I only have about 35 total. But there's not many things that ruin my day in the way that missing a new Festiva does. Worse, when I miss more than one in one day. I've only captured one Festiva outside our city, although I missed one driving on the Interstate. Chalk that up to a phone call while driving (I know, naughty).