Wednesday, Day 3:
Wide awake at 2:00 a.m. It happens, especially at a certain age, as I am told. At least I don’t have to go to work today. On work days I usually get back to sleep within 20 minutes of my alarm going off. But on this morning I wandered out to my computer to plan some menus until sleep once again requested my presence.
I planned some healthy breakfasts that sounded really great until I was ready to eat. By that time, all I wanted to do was snack. If I ever retire, this grazing at home will kill me in a month. Nuts. Dried Fruit. Yogurt. Berries. Granola. Oh sure, it’s all healthy, but you can’t eat it ALL!
Reading and writing took up most of the morning. Then I ventured outside at noon. The sun was shining and the last of the snow was melting. I was finally feeling comfortable setting up my straw bale garden. There were hopes of getting it going about 15 days ago, but I’m glad I waited. This has been some spring, eh?
The back yard is a muddy mess right now. My neighborhood is on a hill. I am in the middle. My first inclination was to build a trench through my yard so that all the water that comes from my neighbors up the hill would drain through to the neighbors down the hill. But then I had a revelation.
The clouds opened up and the angels sang.
Well, it was almost like that.
I realized this is the same stinking thinking that all the people up the hill have which leads to the mud lake in my back yard. I decided that I would like to make a rain garden to keep the water from flowing downhill and into the lakes and streams. It is still just a mud lake, but someday I will make it into a rainwater garden.
Plus the little pup runs for Frisbees back there, and she is ripping it up good! I almost took a couple spills out there — which actually would have been pretty funny!
The afternoon was spent streaming movies and surfing the internet until my youngest called asking if we were still going out for coffee. At about that time Bubba came home and I realized I was un-showered and looking like I had wandered in off the street. Ah . . . this is what PTO looks like!
I met my daughter at the local bookstore/coffee shop where I used to work. The staff has almost completely turned over since I was employed there, and we were left alone to chat all evening. Life. Love. Money. School. Peace . . .
Me: After I divorced your dad, people would ask me if I was happier. And I would tell them I didn’t know if I was happier, but I was more at peace.
Me: That’s all I really want for you kids. Right now you are under a lot of stress. Money is tight, and you’ve made some bad choices.
Me: My hopes for you — for any of you kids — is not to make money, or get married, or have children. You make your own brand of happiness. All I want for you is to be at peace.
Me: The hippies were on to something.
Her: (Smiling) Yeah. They were.
Me: You know, happiness isn’t everything. Peace is huge. And actually, money might not buy happiness, but it can buy a certain amount of peace.
Her: I’m going to post that on Facebook.
I guess this is how the modern parent knows their kids are listening. If it shows up on Facebook, you said something worth hearing.
Peace . . .