Lying in bed, a pile of new library books by my side and an hour to kill before going to pick up fourth son. Oldest daughter dropped me off at my mom's house this morning before going to her job, so I could pay mom's bills and get her car to drive for the day.
Did the bill-paying, took Mom her clean clothes, had a very sweet visit with her, and then stopped at the store for dinner and came back home. Rested just a minute, then took the three youngest to the library. Nice to be back here now, all settled and cozy. I enjoy having the luxury of Mom's car from time to time, but being home is the absolute ultimate in wonderful-ness.
I can hear the chickens outside my bedroom window. They're pecking at something---most likely the scraps off of a plate one of the girls left out there. I can hear the plate wobble on the concrete, as their big old feet step into the bits left behind. It's cold outside, but thankfully it's sunny. We've avoided the snow the folks up North have had to contend with. I can bear the cold temperatures if there's sun to enjoy. But for only so many days. If much of the deep cold hangs around I get agitated. Even at the library, after youngest son went upstairs to the adult fiction section, the girls and I headed to the children's section of books. They had already grabbed a couple of books in the 7-day room and made a bee-line to the plate glass windows facing the sun. Sat down and drank in the heat. Just like cats. I followed suit and was able to slow down in my head.
Now the day unfolds nicely ahead of me. After we pick up fourth son, we'll come home and make chicken pie. Hopefully one of the girls will take my hint and bake a cake. That would round out the day nicely. And having a new (to me) Robert Benson book to read makes everything darn near perfect. Quiet and good.
