It was colder than I thought this morning; though it's overcast, there's a wicked wind. I milled about with the moms and kids at the bus stop, shivering and grunting about the chill, and I was not sorry to enter the Subaru again. . .even though that blessed car is old and sustains injuries. Right now, I can't make any hard right turns. When I turn too hard right, it sounds as if my axle hits the ground. Poor car's undercarriage groans horribly. So I've been plotting my driving for wide right turns and tight left ones. This dictates how and where I park, and it also occasionally throws me into a bit of embarrassment. Case in point: this morning as I turned into the parent-drop-off loop at Bea's school. I usually get there early enough when the lot is a virtual ghost-town, but this time there was actually a car right behind me and a car right in front of me--that is, in the other lane, coming toward me, since my wide right turn jogged me into the left-hand lane.
Those of you who know me best know that I occasionally drive in the wrong lane (I like to think it's a holdover from learning how to drive in a car in Kenya), but this time, I didn't mean to be in the wrong lane. I swallowed panic, waved humbly at both drivers, waited for them to back up, then reversed myself, and then re-turned. I'm sure the other drivers probably thought I was under the influence or addled. So be it. Thankfully, I got to turn left out of the loop and tripped home quite easily. The poor Sube will be fixed soon, but not yet, since there's no money for it until after Christmas. C'est la vie.
Once home, it took me a half hour to start a fire in our stove. Ash sprinkled my hair by the time the magic finally happened and the wood ignited. I'm still waiting for the heat to build enough that I can shut the door and enjoy the blower.
It is good to have rituals like this one, even when they take longer than they are supposed to. Fire, tea, work.
We had a lovely weekend, marked by good people: my sister's family on Friday night, a double-date with friends (two different people from different parts of our lives who met and fell in love!), a service project Sunday morning, and a sweet family on Sunday afternoon for popcorn, quiche, and games.
This morning Bea crawled in next to me in bed and said what she always does: "Mommy, turn over so you're facing me." Then she finagled my arm around her neck and we drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Not a bad way to start a new week!
Now on to The Project. I'm hoping to finish a rough draft by December 17, but I'm not keeping my fingers crossed. On Friday, I told myself I had to write at least 2000 words; I left the desk for Pho with Martin around 1:30 short 500 words. And here I am, prattling on, procrastinating again. Time to get cracking. The encouraging part is, when I read what I've written out loud to Elspeth, it sounds effortless, and she cheers me on to read more. I do think one's own children are the hardest audience, so that is a good sign!
Time to shut the door on the stove. Tea is all sipped. No more excuses.
Happy Monday!
Those of you who know me best know that I occasionally drive in the wrong lane (I like to think it's a holdover from learning how to drive in a car in Kenya), but this time, I didn't mean to be in the wrong lane. I swallowed panic, waved humbly at both drivers, waited for them to back up, then reversed myself, and then re-turned. I'm sure the other drivers probably thought I was under the influence or addled. So be it. Thankfully, I got to turn left out of the loop and tripped home quite easily. The poor Sube will be fixed soon, but not yet, since there's no money for it until after Christmas. C'est la vie.
Once home, it took me a half hour to start a fire in our stove. Ash sprinkled my hair by the time the magic finally happened and the wood ignited. I'm still waiting for the heat to build enough that I can shut the door and enjoy the blower.
It is good to have rituals like this one, even when they take longer than they are supposed to. Fire, tea, work.
We had a lovely weekend, marked by good people: my sister's family on Friday night, a double-date with friends (two different people from different parts of our lives who met and fell in love!), a service project Sunday morning, and a sweet family on Sunday afternoon for popcorn, quiche, and games.
This morning Bea crawled in next to me in bed and said what she always does: "Mommy, turn over so you're facing me." Then she finagled my arm around her neck and we drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Not a bad way to start a new week!
Now on to The Project. I'm hoping to finish a rough draft by December 17, but I'm not keeping my fingers crossed. On Friday, I told myself I had to write at least 2000 words; I left the desk for Pho with Martin around 1:30 short 500 words. And here I am, prattling on, procrastinating again. Time to get cracking. The encouraging part is, when I read what I've written out loud to Elspeth, it sounds effortless, and she cheers me on to read more. I do think one's own children are the hardest audience, so that is a good sign!
Time to shut the door on the stove. Tea is all sipped. No more excuses.
Happy Monday!
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