A week in the life

I know I've been quiet again this week, but we're all finally recovered from our sickness. The rest of the family had the good sense to avoid the flu and opted for the less-debilitating head cold. This still allowed for many an hour in the evening when bodies could be found flopped all over the living room. No voices were available for as much reading as we wanted to hear, so we listened to Ben Hur on audiotape instead. The Listening Library version, read by someone I will not name, is done in a dreadfully monotone voice. Fortunately, the story is gripping enough to be able to overlook the lack of enthusiastic reading, and my husband was inspired by his potential employment as a reader of audiobooks. In January many teachers find the need to consider alternate sources of income; it will pass, but perhaps for the "retirement" years? All these years of evening read-alouds have made him into a storyteller extraordinaire. He would be a fine Listening Library employee.

Other occupations have included hanging my wash in lieu of a functioning dryer, making batches and batches of bread,




making a final batch of truffles for friends and favorite tutors,




and spending extra time talking with my dear mom. Her sixteen-year-old cat is very ill, and he is obviously not going to be with us much longer. Max is the only cat I have known who would go into the bathtub every day to take a shower under the leaky faucet. He would then sit under Mom's lamp to get warm.



Weird, but dear. We're on the Max Watch these days, making sure that his final days are filled with affection and care. We'll miss his goofiness when he is gone.

Besides the usual school work, the children have had a lot of fun. My son decided that the drying rack wasn't really for laundry. It was a puppet theater. It worked beautifully!




My younger daughter designed and built (with her daddy's help) a bench for her doll. It's really a great design. This girl has an eye for building that amazes me. Design of some sort is in her future.




She's also a great source of joy to her grandmother. They can talk and plan and design and dream together for hours. It's just what Mom needs right now.




But, the big surprise came on Sunday night as we were driving home from our bi-weekly bible study. My husband announced that the conditions were perfect and that Monday was an official Hollyoaks Classical Academy ski holiday. They headed to the slopes and had a cold, refreshing day of skiing. Everyone is old enough to pack and unpack, to ski independently and to meet at the right time, so my ski-loving husband is happy, happy, happy. They had a great time.

I stayed home. It was QUIET. It got CLEAN (and stayed that way the rest of the day.) It was the refreshment that my soul needed. Usually when I have a day alone I either do work or I plan to read. This time I knew that the house needed a good cleaning, some closets needed to be attacked with vigor, and I needed to not have a long list of to-dos. It was perfect.

I did watch Hotel Rwanda. I knew it would be a tough movie to see, but I also knew that time alone to see it is rare (not a movie for children.) I sobbed, as anyone would, but it also shocked me into remembering that my life is e-a-s-y. So what if the dryer is broken. So what if homeschooling is a demanding lifestyle. So what if we are tightening up the budget. These are the problems of people in an affluent, peaceful world. Our lives are relatively safe, and I know that I need to take time to appreciate that. I experience plenty of irritations, but suffering? Rarely.


SKI DAY!!

Every now and then my mind seems to get clogged; thoughts come more slowly and anxiety comes quite easily. I have a hard time pinning down my feelings, and that makes writing more difficult. Sickness can often be the invitation to that murky destination, but I am happy to be on the clearer thinking path now. Hormones, stress, whatever the cause, I am always relieved when the clouds blow away. Today we took a brief drive, and it was beautiful. We could see the mountains in the distance, glistening with white snow, but the warm sun was shining in the sunroof. We had on Michael Card's live recording, Scribbling in the Sand, and it was fun to sing along, not feeling the need to talk. Quiet companionship at its best.

May your days be filled with gratitude, an awareness and care for those who are suffering, and the clarity of thought to help make sense of it all.