photo (and paperwhites) by Dr. Gooch this week
I'm in a fight with my blog. But, like in a marriage, we are trying to maintain some sort of civility so we can make it through the "daily". The silent treatment only makes things worse anyway. So, here at the cottage our toes are numb and tax time is breathing down our necks. Seth lost another tooth. Lucy's clothes fit Hazel better. And Hazel told me I can't send her to the moon because "Lucy really likes me and would be so sad". I really do want to send her to the moon sometimes, just until she's 4. I stole three empty shoe boxes from Target for Valentine Boxes for the rascals at school (Ashley was my accomplice--oh and Hazel, too.) I've started beading again. I have been thinking a lot about Stephanie Nielson and her trial and how it is different from my trial and your trial. None of this lessens the pain for any of us. Pain is a problem. It gets in the way of our plans. Life plans. And then we discover that our plans never held much sway anyway and we begin the surrender. I love the smell of paperwhites, the Doctor's aftershave, and garlic frying in olive oil. I love the warmth I find in his feet, in an ichat with my Mom all the way over in Korea, in the tenderness of my children that I underestimate too much. In these details we find repair. In the subtle smells, sounds, and touch of people we love. As for my blog and me...I think honesty is the key.