It's as if suddenly we landed in autumn. The temperatures took a dip and a dive.
We eat breakfast inside.
You, Ocean readers, you know how my Fridays look: terribly chore loaded. Today is no different.
So anxious am I to move on, away from online shopping (for my mother, and for myself -- those needed replacements of broken and tattered things that should have been replaced a long time ago), away from all of the tedious stuff we all, even Ed must do (yes, even him, the guy who is so terrific at not replacing anything that can be taped together one more time) -- so terribly dull and time sucking is it that when the UPS man delivers a new travel backpack and I think it's way uglier than I had hoped, I shrug my shoulders and toss it into the closet, thinking I'll take "not what I had in mind" over having to look yet again for something better.
At least it's not expensive... I mutter to myself. I ask Ed -- do you think it's ugly? It's so... square!
If it's not expensive, it's not ugly -- is his predictable response.
(Looking out, but not going out...)
When I pick up Snowdrop, she asks to go to the playground.
It's cold! -- I protest, feeling a little ashamed that I'm wilting already and it's actually somewhere in the mid-sixties F (so about fifteen C). To my credit, I'm in shorts. She's wearing leggings.
We compromise by driving to the playground (I promise I'll do better going forward!). There, she unleashes her inner joy!
This is when you really remember the sweetness of the changing seasons. If summer was grand, fall, free of sweltering heat and overheated playground equipment, is equally beguiling. We spend a beautiful hour raking it all in.
Yes, of course: Snowdrop inevitably rolls into her story telling mode.
There is drama.
But, all's well that ends well.
I so agree, Snowdrop. I so agree.
We eat breakfast inside.
You, Ocean readers, you know how my Fridays look: terribly chore loaded. Today is no different.
So anxious am I to move on, away from online shopping (for my mother, and for myself -- those needed replacements of broken and tattered things that should have been replaced a long time ago), away from all of the tedious stuff we all, even Ed must do (yes, even him, the guy who is so terrific at not replacing anything that can be taped together one more time) -- so terribly dull and time sucking is it that when the UPS man delivers a new travel backpack and I think it's way uglier than I had hoped, I shrug my shoulders and toss it into the closet, thinking I'll take "not what I had in mind" over having to look yet again for something better.
At least it's not expensive... I mutter to myself. I ask Ed -- do you think it's ugly? It's so... square!
If it's not expensive, it's not ugly -- is his predictable response.
(Looking out, but not going out...)
When I pick up Snowdrop, she asks to go to the playground.
It's cold! -- I protest, feeling a little ashamed that I'm wilting already and it's actually somewhere in the mid-sixties F (so about fifteen C). To my credit, I'm in shorts. She's wearing leggings.
We compromise by driving to the playground (I promise I'll do better going forward!). There, she unleashes her inner joy!
This is when you really remember the sweetness of the changing seasons. If summer was grand, fall, free of sweltering heat and overheated playground equipment, is equally beguiling. We spend a beautiful hour raking it all in.
Yes, of course: Snowdrop inevitably rolls into her story telling mode.
There is drama.
But, all's well that ends well.
I so agree, Snowdrop. I so agree.
