Daily Archives: 21 March 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010 ~ 9:30pm at the sister’s home
All’s quiet on the homefront. Two boys in bed upstairs, on time, with only moments of talking between the bedrooms. Sister and brother-in-law en route from night out at a Stars hockey game. One fraidy dog snug in her kennel in the garage. No TV. No music. Just the Mac and me and one slightly tepid Cherry Limeade.
The boys and I had spent the evening chillin’ around their house — the older one upstairs, watching TV, texting friends, occasionally speaking to an actual person on the phone; the younger one stayed downstairs with me, acting out his own hockey game with plastic figures while the Stars played live on the big screen in front of him. Me, I bounced from Mac to meal prep (homemade chicken tenders with frozen tator tots) to phone calls with my own parents and back to Mac, all the while keeping the two not-on-best-terms boys as far apart from each other as possible in their home. Worked pretty well most of the evening. And after only a small amount of whining, both got ready for bed when I told them and had lights out in short order.
The quiet house invited propped up feet (aren’t the grandpa slippers lovely?) and a little time to continue my quest to clear out the Google Reader. What you can’t see is that I’ve broken the 150-post mark! (It helps to unsubscribe from those you haven’t been able to check in over 3 months. Seriously… who could possibly keep up with nearly 100 active bloggers at a time?) Of course, the moment I really settled in I got the call from my sister than they were almost home. sigh So much for chill time.
And yet, for just a few minutes, all was still. Still.
At this moment… I am content.
At this moment… I am full of love for these boys and these times together.
At this moment… I am not concerned with tomorrow.
Six more weeks of winter is fine with me. I love winter. I’m happy to extend it. Cold and wind and snow makes me happy. But when it’s spring, it’s Spring. When the weather turns warm and the birds return and the flowers display full blooms then it’s time to put winter to rest. Those six weeks are done and over, and it’s simply time to move forward.
This is not moving forward.
Honestly, Mr. Groundhog, if you say six weeks, then six weeks it should be. But don’t say six when you mean eight. Or twelve. I can handle it if it’s truly twelve more weeks of winter. But I don’t want to count down six weeks only to have it snow in the seventh week. Really… that’s just cruel.