Today

I've succumbed again to working up a blog post to a point where it gets too complex to jump into it. So, I'm defying my previous failure and just writing. Not that anyone would know, but this will be my 100th post here in this little entity of our family's memories and my processing. Not too impressive when I've technically had this blog address since February of 2009. You do the math. Of course I wish there was more here, and of course I'm thrilled to be typing something this moment. And so to break through 100 posts and move forward I will mull about today. Just today.

The sun rose and we woke to it. Some of us earlier than others, but there was the almost immediate realization that all the windows needed to be flung open as soon as possible. And so they were. Then there was coffee and a draw to sit on the porch and an invitation for my daughters to join me. They reveled. On beanbags. With sunglasses because our only quasi-direct porch sunlight is in the morning. We talked about the air and the birds and we laughed and I sipped and then the darndest thing happened...they got hungry. A French toast picnic followed with a welcoming of Daddy to the scene. Eventually we all found clothes for the day and Michaela jumped into painting a frame she had received as a gift last week. And so there was paint. It occupied for quite some time while I slowly bustled (I've perfected that act) and cleaned up breakfast and thought a lot. The thinking slows the bustling. There is lots to think about just now.

And then there was our version of school and some tears here and there. There was painstaking reading on the couch and goldfish crackers with math. Some writing and some counting and some talking and then we were done. Sophie had been asking me to make "paahstah" since breakfast, so we collaborated on a box of mac'n'cheese while Michaela ate a sandwich and pineapple. Andrew went out for lunch and then brought a friend back to chat and while away some afternoon hours. It was good to have an outsider in. He brought laughter and good conversation and a good-natured approach to our messy house and appearance. And then we ran out for a few groceries and got back in time for the girls to swing on "their" swings while I chopped garlic and sautéed shrimp and kale. We sat and we ate and then I turned to the kitchen in amazement at all the residual debris that happens when good food happens. Why I'm still startled by this is a mystery.

There was a short interlude of decision and then we all headed outside to journey to the mailbox. Andrew's bike had finally been fixed and the girls nearly pleaded for us all to ride something, sooo three were on bikes and I rocked Sophie's purple Razor scooter. All. Around. the neighborhood. It was seriously good fun except that one time I almost wiped out on some uneven sidewalk. Michaela told me that she always stops there and lifts her scooter up over that section. Good to know. There was fun mail from great-grandma and Nani and singing all the way home. Cleaning, wash-up-ing, pajama-ing, reading, bedding, talking, and showering rounded out the night. And so another day is done.

I don't keep a facebook account for a number of reasons, but I check in on Andrew's fairly regularly. One of his friends posted a great Annie Dillard quote recently: How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. That is much to be considered, so it made it up on my kitchen chalkboard. A reminder? A call? A quest? An encouragement? A truth. One of many, of course. And so is this hymn which is also in chalk to make me slow and pray:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll;
whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

 

Cheers and Goodnight!