We are still reveling in being together again, the seven of us. This was Scott’s first long weekend off since we arrived in SoCal, and it was just really really nice to have him home, all to ourselves, for four whole days. In some ways this was the first four-day weekend our kids have ever known. Scott was a freelancer for eight years, beginning the day Rose was born. We used to have to make a special breakfast on Saturdays just so our kids would know it was the weekend.
This weekend, long as it purportedly was, whisked by in a rush of giggles and squeals. Our Thanksgiving feast, with "just" the seven of us, and then another trip to the zoo, and then a trip to the park. We can’t get used to parks and short sleeves in late November. The sight of palm trees still catches me by surprise. Every day, hummingbirds come to visit the basket of red and purple flowers that hangs outside my kitchen window. Their wings flutter so quickly we can’t see them moving, which is exactly what the days are doing right now. Slow down, I whisper. I want to savor this, every moment of it.
a monday in march
Even the sick days are pretty darn great.
Back to Earth