December 18th

It cannot be December 18th, can it??

It's a pattern now: I wake up at night remembering a bit of something (not necessarily holiday related) that I have to do. I want to write a note to myself, I turn on the light, or worse -- the computer, and then I get swallowed by the details that come flying at me. Make a list, make a list! No, I'll remember. And of course by now I am fully awake and wondering whether I should just start in on the day even though it's only 4. Or 3. In the morning.

Ed's head is equally full, but the funny thing is -- there is no overlap! He is completely absorbed with the reconstruct and therefore reinvention of one of the metal milling machines. The other night he was on the phone with someone in Pakistan, trying to learn how to cope with.... oh, I dont know what! Some plasma issue? 3 a.m. and he is furiously taking notes on what to do next. He explained it to me, but it made as much sense as my explanations of my next few weeks are to him. We smile with benevolent tolerance at each other and retreat into our own chaos.

My walk to the barn is in very cold weather! We're having a one day blowout freeze, before returning to above normal temperatures.  White hens, studying a dusting of snow...

In this kind of weather, breakfast at the kitchen table is especially lovely, even if it is cut short by a thought Ed may have, or a note I may want to scribble to myself.

Morning is devoted to the details that I so wanted to remember in the middle of the night. Notes to friends who were kind in recent days, boxes to wrap, things to put back in their boxes for a refund. (The list is long. But then, everyone's list is long.)

In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. 

On our ride to the farmette, I plunge into the topic of sibling relationships. One car ride wont touch on all aspects of this, but we give ourselves more time by doing a drive-through at one of her favorites -- Chick-Fil-A -- for a bag of french fries. 

In childhood, things can seem complicated. Age sets limits and expectations. An older child is expected to set the tone and understand the frailties. A younger child is expected to follow along as the older one picks up successes and recognition.  One of my grandchildren recently said (when asked if s/he ever felt jealous of the attention accorded to her/his younger sib) -- life stopped being fair when my younger sib was born! And of course, that is correct -- suddenly, everyone has to work harder at empathy, at self control, at giving up something, even as, of course, one gains so much love!

At the farmhouse, Snowdrop and I are racing toward the end of the Vanderbeeker book series. In other words, we spent 95% of our time today reading together. I love finales in children's literature! Even without a totally happy ending, there is inevitably a focus on peace and comfort. These books are full of adventure, but, too, full of family love. And sibling dynamic! I'll be sorry to move onto something else later in the week.

In the evening I scramble eggs for supper. I haven't done grocery shopping for the week and I am focused now on holiday meals and cannot be bothered with menu planning! 

Oh, but this month is moving at breakneck speed. And that's okay. So long as we keep taking those pauses to take it all in. To notice the gloriousness of a changing landscape. Of the sky at night. Of life as we know it.

with love...