Friday, September 08, 2017

the unique qualities of a Friday

There is no complaint I can put forth about weather, about tedious chores, about unexpected burdens and inconveniences. None. Just take a pause and think about damage to the islands and states to the south. Everything there puts everything here in perspective.

We all do have our external circumstances that make life easy or tough. In Wisconsin, we have the heavy winters, the mosquitoes and the occasional tornado. They, over there, have the raging storms. The others have the earthquakes. And now there are the hurricanes. Heavy winters and mosquitoes with the occasional tornado are suddenly light fare compared to what is happening as a result of Harvey and Irma.

I'm not in the path of a hurricane, but my super close friend might as well be family is and so Ed and I study the charts, read the analyses and worry from afar.

To add stress to these days, Ed has been on the wrong side of the wellness equilibrium (how's that for a fancy way of saying he's picked up some cold symptoms) and so I feel compelled to fuss.

In this photo, he is letting me know that it is indeed a fine idea to eat breakfast outside today, even though he is cold and shivering as a result....

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Let's switch worries (and granted -- none of these are even close to significant worries... they are microscopic frets): here's a photo of our three girls. Left to right: Java, Henny, Scotch. Java just today quit brooding (sitting in one spot all day long and not moving an inch, no matter what) and Scotch is not dead yet and so you have all three. It may be one of the last times that I have all three in one shot as I honestly think Scotch is finally reaching that peak of hen age beyond which she cannot function. Ed is in total denial about this, but in my assessment, she is old and she just needs to put it down and rest.

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If I title the post "the unique qualities of Friday," then I suppose I must mention that, as every Friday, I shop for food for the week. As I unload the stuff onto the belt at the store, I look at the box of prepared sushi that I have in my cart and I have to smile: I'm like that person to make fun of, the one who buys all this nutritious stuff, only to stick a box of prepared sushi for dinner. The woman who is checking me out (and who happens to be my all time favorite checkout person ever) listens to me and she laughs: you do not have to apologize for what you buy. I'll come home and want nothing more than a reheated slice of frozen pizza for dinner.

And soon it is time to pick up Snowdrop.

The girl runs to me and dissolves. She loves school, loves life, loves her friends, teachers, tasks -- all of it, but (as the school person explains to me) she is two years old and it's the end of the week and life has thrown a bunch of changes her way and she just can't hold it in one second more.

Eventually, she regroups and we are at the farmhouse and she is her old happy self.

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(Reading, with a bowl of fruit at the side, will do wonders...)

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By late afternoon, she is signing songs she learned...

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... and setting the table for a spirited game of "restaurant."

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And then I return her home and come back to the farmhouse to eat that boxed grocery store sushi with Ed and to worry about my friend in Florida. Because really, that's where my Friday thoughts lie.