It's the kind of day where you dutifully walk from one place to the next, one assignment and then another, one job done, another still ahead. March briskly, look ahead, proceed in an orderly fashion.
Breakfast first.
Then it begins: throw in a load of laundry, fill the tank with gas, visit mom, deposit some papers to the medical staff, go to grocery story to do Friday shopping now, because I wont be here Friday to do it then. Unpack groceries, make a second cup of coffee, get kids.
How easy it is to fill a morning!
Perhaps the highlight here was my pause by the rack of seed packets at the grocery store. Should I pick up some ruffled cosmos? Nasturtium? They do run out sometimes... How about some California poppies? In thinking about these flowers, I start looking ahead toward the next season -- one where I wont be quite this busy. One where I can actually dig holes for new plantings and snip hundreds of spent lily heads. That season will come. But for now, the march is on: one task, followed by another and another.
The kids do put a (temporary) halt to everything. I have to pay attention now to their quick movements. They are, of course, as sweet and charming as can be, but if the afternoon is to be productive and well spent, sitting back and admiring their charm is not the way to go. I should be guiding them now and though I may sometimes take a backseat to their games, the need for a gentle intervention -- a push or prod, is always there.
Today, Snowdrop and Sparrow play very well. We read, they do art, they do puzzles. And they cavort on the couch.
(reading snack)
(on a cat patrol)
(working on another super pig book)
(going for an orange segment)
(keeping watch)
And then they go home.
And Ed goes off to play volley ball with his group of winter volley ball enthusiasts.
And I research every listed assisted living facility within spittin' distance of here. It looks like next week I'll be negotiating my mom's acceptance into a place that will have an opening for her. The comparison shopping (and I do not love shopping!) starts now.
Breakfast first.
Then it begins: throw in a load of laundry, fill the tank with gas, visit mom, deposit some papers to the medical staff, go to grocery story to do Friday shopping now, because I wont be here Friday to do it then. Unpack groceries, make a second cup of coffee, get kids.
How easy it is to fill a morning!
Perhaps the highlight here was my pause by the rack of seed packets at the grocery store. Should I pick up some ruffled cosmos? Nasturtium? They do run out sometimes... How about some California poppies? In thinking about these flowers, I start looking ahead toward the next season -- one where I wont be quite this busy. One where I can actually dig holes for new plantings and snip hundreds of spent lily heads. That season will come. But for now, the march is on: one task, followed by another and another.
The kids do put a (temporary) halt to everything. I have to pay attention now to their quick movements. They are, of course, as sweet and charming as can be, but if the afternoon is to be productive and well spent, sitting back and admiring their charm is not the way to go. I should be guiding them now and though I may sometimes take a backseat to their games, the need for a gentle intervention -- a push or prod, is always there.
Today, Snowdrop and Sparrow play very well. We read, they do art, they do puzzles. And they cavort on the couch.
(reading snack)
(on a cat patrol)
(working on another super pig book)
(going for an orange segment)
(keeping watch)
And then they go home.
And Ed goes off to play volley ball with his group of winter volley ball enthusiasts.
And I research every listed assisted living facility within spittin' distance of here. It looks like next week I'll be negotiating my mom's acceptance into a place that will have an opening for her. The comparison shopping (and I do not love shopping!) starts now.
