Wednesday, March 21, 2012

On My Mind

Last night I had a couple of guys come over to give me some quotes on trimming our trees.  While we were out there our next door neighbors came outside to get in their car.  I mentioned what I was thinking about doing with the trees.  And he made a snarky comment back that was supposed to be funny but came off as kind of offensive.

He told us that we should cut it down and use the stump to put a table on top.

It's a big, beautiful River Birch.  And I know some of it hangs over our fence into his backyard but c'mon.  He has no other trees in his yard.  And maybe that's his problem.  Maybe he's anti-tree.  Who's anti-tree?

We actually really like these neighbors.  So maybe I'm just being too sensitive.

This morning I let a friend vent about a situation in which she and her family have been a victim of big government getting in the way of ordinary folks.  It makes me want to punch someone in the face.  Or slash some tires.  That's really mean.  And not something I would ever do.  But it makes me angry to see nice people be wronged.  SO wronged.

After that William and I get ready for the day.  When he's finished he sits in Lucy's bed on the bottom bunk and reads books.  He is captivated by whatever is on those pages.  He doesn't even notice me as I come and go.  My heart flutters.  He loves books.  Yes, he loves TV and computer games.  But he loves books too.  And this makes me very, very happy.

On the way to school he rides his bike.  And I run.  I run!  I haven't run since before I got pregnant with Katherine.  At the end of the block my asthma kicks in and I'm reminded of elementary school.  Running the mile for gym class on the old track behind the school.  Where, at about the 150 yard mark, I could see our green house with the circle driveway over the fence.  And I'd think of my mom at home and how I wish I were there with her.  Eating apple slices on top of a paper towel.  Instead of on that track.  Running a mile.  With my asthma.

When I get home I nurse the baby.  After awhile I realize I'm tense.  Trying to rush her.  But for what?  I've got all the time in the world.  Or, at least until preschool pick-up.  So I take a couple of yogi breaths and relax.  She smiles.  Milk dribbles down the side of her cheek.

When she's finished she lets me cradle her like the baby she is instead of trying to sit up like the big girl she wishes she were.  So we sit there for a few minutes just enjoying each other's company.

I go into the kitchen to make coffee.  Making coffee is not my forté.  I leave that to our household expert, Brian.  But he's still gone so the responsibility falls onto me.  We are all out of the good coffee.  So I'm forced to use a flavored Christmas blend from Harry & David that my mom re-gifted to me.  I'm skeptical. But it's all we have.

When did I become such a coffee snob?  I wonder.  In college I literally used to use those instant coffee packets.  Then I moved on to Folger's.  Then only coffee shop branded coffee.  And now I wouldn't dream of drinking a cup of coffee that didn't first start out as a whole bean just five minutes earlier.

Yesterday I spent the whole day thinking it was Thursday when it was really only Tuesday.  Probably because Brian comes home on Thursday and I was trying to trick myself.  But alas I woke up today to Wednesday.  Still another whole night to get through.  The missing has turned into aching.

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