We fly early Wednesday morning. Early. But at least we fly with lots of time before the wedding; time to see family, to shop for missing wedding items, to sit and have coffee, to sleep, to laugh, to see. That was the plan from the start and these delays have only taken one day from us. We count ourselves lucky.

Here are some great photos of the volcano.


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In the middle of the night I awakened feeling I'd been asleep for hours. It was 42 minutes since I had turned my light out. And the time up to then had been slippery. While I toured the Metropolitan Museum of Art with the Kincaid children it slithered and crept. Although it was 9:36 when I started to read, somehow the clock said nearly midnight when I closed the book. Strange goings on.

So now, I sit here, book and journal both at hand. I have read, I have written, my mind has wandered the halls of Everywhere One Goes In the Night. I am still awake. I will not be so tomorrow, or rather later today, but really there's not much I can do about it now. Experience has taught me it's easier to just get up and do something than to lie abed tossing and sighing. Besides being up doesn't waken Pieman who has been working awfully hard. And one can usually find time for a nap on a Sunday afternoon. Usually.

I suppose I could make some soothing chamomile tea but then I'd have to use the facilities which would wake me again and besides 1) I don't like chamomile tea and 2) I don't have any. See reason 1. Coffee isn't a good option under the circumstances.

The good news is I didn't plant my frost sensitive seeds just before today's snow even though the weather this past month has been unseasonably gorgeous and seed-planting tempting.

So happy dreams to all you slumberers.

It is good to have a home, but one always feels drawn to that which appears more comfortable.

Words spoken today by a friend whose family seems, and truly is, thriving where it is.

How false my heart feels to want what it doesn't have even knowing that the apparent comfort of another life would be just as uncomfortable as this. And is discomfort so bad? Can not discontent compel me to seek contentment from the One source that satisfies? That is the grain I am taking from my friend's comment. A warning and a signpost to my heart.

The smell of bread rising, the sound of my washing machine servant working cheerfully, children protesting that geography is more important than math at this moment but doing the math anyway, these are all signs that I feel at home.

So hush, you heart.

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It's March.

Made it.

I've only worn out two sweaters this year and purchased two new ones to replace them. One new scarf, one shawl, new socks. The wood stove has made an enormous difference.

And apparently I've been vitamin D deficient and that is really, really important for me. Who knew? I am more thankful than you can know for those little, round, squishy pills.

CTM told me I'm doing better this year at not hibernating. "You don't just move from the stove to the chair in front of the fire to the furnace room to get more wood for the fire."

Thanks.

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flowers received

I'm thinking today about giving. Likely this post will not give you a complete picture of my thoughts since I am abbreviating them. But perhaps it will spark your own thought process.

When people ask me for something how willing am I to give? Requests for help, for my time or energy, for a 'thing' be it money or something else come up regularly. I'm not talking so much about the various organizations trying to raise money for this or the other project, but people's requests, the people around me, the people I run into in my normal circle of living. Especially when it is in my power to give, I would like to be one who gives easily, freely. When it is a sacrifice for me to give, even then I still think I should and I want that to be something that defines who I am. Joyfully.

I have lots of room to grow in this area but I don't want to forget my thoughts of today. I don't want to slip again into my habitual thoughts just because they're the habits I'm used to. I want to begin, to continue, the difficult task of creating new habits.

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words

Why is it so easy to say words but so often difficult to say what we mean?

A night of unrest, pain. The speaker unaware of the result of words spoken. The words, in fact, heard completely incorrectly...added to negatively. Morning brings pain still, anger, hurt. Fortunately there also follows reconciliation.

I catch my breath at the ease with which the pain could have festered and grown into hate.