Things have been very busy here lately. Way busy. I hate even saying it, becuase some people brag about busyness, but trust me - I am not one of them. It is just the simple truth. We have flown in and out of the house since Thursday. Every week seems to get a little busier. It will stay this way at least until mid-December. I am about falling over with tiredness and my mind has ceased to function in any intelligent way.
Today, though, has been almost lovely. It is chilly, and the morning sun has given way to drab afternoon clouds that hold the promise of rain. My living room is cozy, with the lights on since 2pm. Remnants of a train track litter the floor, where the Mad Toddler ripped apart the carefully laid track. Clean laundry stands in folded piles, like soldiers at the ready. There is more waiting for me in the dryer, but for now, it can wait. Books from last week's library trip lie here and there, on the couch, the floor, the coffee table, the cabinet. I should feel more concerned about the group of unmatched socks on the table, but I don't. Not yet.
Bliss. For a little while. In a moment, I will get up to get the laundry. In an hour I will dress for the service I will be singing for at church tonight. Oh, but before that I must deliver the Young Adult to a friend so they can get to scouts. And after the service, I will go to pay for his camping trip and pick him up. And stop and get milk (I just had to dump the Mad Toddler's afternoon cereal down the drain after I got a whiff of the milk).