Just praying from one moment to the next to refrain from "busy-ness" and do the work in my hands from one moment to the next mindfully and meaningfully.
Not making it to church again. Nora watches Josh and the Big Wall while I study solitary but wanting and needing that community.
Freezing the last of the the gifts of God's garden. I watch the squirrels gathering beneath the trees, and I'm suddenly imagining their little miniature deep freezes tucked somewhere inside the trees. That probably explains the bright orange extension cord running from my garage to the pin oak out back.
Taking Nora to Goehner so she can ride around on the blacktop at the park. We pass the trains at the museum in town, and they're running. I turn the car around, and before we know it, we're balancing on miniature trains riding around in the gray changing skies with 4 grown men dressed as conductors and feeding the trains coal. I'll try to get some pictures next Sunday. You won't believe it.
Getting rained on while at the playground and visiting a friend who offers her abundance of apples. We laugh about excessive gardening ambition and how hard it is to plant a smaller garden. Hope lives.
Loving all the friends in my life and all the weird, wonderful, honest, brave adventures they're having. You. I'm talking to you.
Barbies out on the living room floor. Henrietta and Lucky enjoying clean digs. Nora drawing fat, blue kitties on the bathtub wall with her bath crayons. A rough draft getting clearer. Facing my own fear of writing and communication, and grateful for the reminder of what I put my students through several times a semester. Yes, this does take courage. Courage. Courage. COURAGE! There. Got it.
The rain waiting long enough for Mike to get his beans in. Mom in her studio throwing pots all day long.
And while I regret not seeing so many people in the flesh, I'm thankful for language, so we can touch base here and there and here again.