Monday

This is the first time since school started for Snowdrop in August that her mommy had to call in a sick day for her. (She'd been ill before, but always on the weekend or on a holiday and never for more than a day or two.)

It came as no surprise -- the little one began to feel ill last night. For me it was not a huge change in schedule. In the morning, her mommy stayed home with her while I ate a leisurely breakfast with Ed. A leisurely and long breakfast.






I'd been reading a backlog of New Yorkers and they have left me with many thoughts and questions to mull over and thrash around and Ed is a wonderful sounding board for all of them.

And then I still had some free time and so I finally, finally sat down and to think about how to take up again my Great Writing Project.  I'd let go of it for nearly a year. Time to refresh my plans and move forward. (It helped that nothing outside tempts me right now. The unexpected January thaw has melted the snow, left puddles and mud in its stead and still the sun has not come out! I mean, if we're to have horrible mud, can't we at least have lovely sunshine to accompany this very odd set of winter days?)

And just after noon, I went over to Snowdrop's home to care for her there.

Except in the course of a quiet morning, the girl regained her strength and by the time I came in, you'd never know that she'd been ill!






She is delighted to run, play, do puzzles, arrange characters -- the usual stuff of a normal Snowdrop day. (The only nod to a more relaxed set of hours is letting her stay in her pajamas -- a request on her part oddly in line with the premise that she is slightly sick.)






You know that she is well again when she instigates a beautiful and long lasting dancing moment with her mommy and gaga to the rhythm of Abba's Dancing Queen.

I've put down my camera though. This is her day off. It may as well be my day "off focus" as well.


Later, much later, I think about all the things I want to return to this year. Writing -- that's the obvious one. Listening daily to French conversation -- another. The usual self improvement stuff. Good stuff. The magnificent thing about a string of cloudy days is that it allows you to focus on what's inside, not only your home, but your head. What a luxury, utter luxury to be able to do that! However complicated life is on the outside -- your thoughts are always there, ready and waiting for your intervention, your dust cloth, your resolve to get them in fine order.

I listen to my French talk, I set my writing priorities, Snowdrop is up and running. I'm on my way to a fine week ahead.