Ah, the chaotic comfort of fall, the season when my kids are needy, the schedule is impossible, and there's never enough of anything to go around. Miranda's speeding ticket was dismissed, she dropped one of her three English classes, and now wants to go on a spending spree in her spare time with her "spare" money. Stephen is, well, Stephen - watching his bank account dwindle to nothing while he spends entirely too much on fast food... but hey, he's 21 now. Another year or two and he'll declare his independence - and I'm betting I'll still be doing semi-monthly money transfers. Heather either is really enjoying high school and doing well in class, or is the best actress on the planet. I'm not taking any bets. I just want her to pass all her coursework. My gadding butterfly just won't light long enough to take this stuff seriously. Tonight is Open House at school, so maybe I'll get a better idea of what's going on. Tomorrow we have "Call to Freedom" at the church, so I guess Thursday night I'll actually cook for the first time this week. Unless, of course, something else pressing comes up ;)
On the ride into work this morning I let myself be lost in the foggy mist and enjoyed the last of the snow from this past weekend. It will no doubt be gone soon, soaked into the ground as if it never existed. Snow for me has always held a deeper meaning. I am happiest when it snows, yet I couldn't begin to explain why. So I looked out the window, imagining romantic characters striding across the pure white expanses, and just breathed in the beauty. Snow wraps around the seemingly dead landscape, and whispers promises of rebirth and renewal as it gently cradles the world in its soft, white blanket.
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