You know how obsessed I’ve been with the weather. Wishing for rainy days. Not just because we need it, but because, for me, they’re the best days. Last week into the weekend we were gifted with three days of rain. My kind of paradise.
I had one of those three days to myself (sometimes those are just what the soul needs…me time) and spent a good amount of the day watching reliable movie favorites plus a new spooky show that had me checking closets. Checking for what? Not sure. But something dangerous and creepy. The coast was clear.
We stuck close to home mostly. Fussed about the house. Sat by the fire. Ate comfort food. I peeked out the windows a lot to check on the flowers I’d only planted a few days before the rainstorm hit. They were A-Okay. Soil sloshed out of a bunch of my pots, but that was the extent of the damage. However, yesterday I noticed a misfit rabbit dines on my Johnny-jump-ups at night. How dare! Ah well, maybe they’re his favorite.
Sometimes I wonder how my husband and I connected. I’m incredibly content staying at home for days on end. He gets restless and needs to get out and explore the world. I enjoy that, too, but if you told me I had to stay home for a week, I’d make a quick run to the market and hunker down happily.
No surprise that I drank a lot of tea during the cold rainy days. And I wasn’t hyped up on caffeine either because I stuck to naturally decaffeinated tea (patting self on back). Sip.
This week has flowed much like last week. No rain, but fairly cool days. I’ve managed to get my errands done in the morning while Munchie’s in school so that once I pick her up, we’re home for the day. We sprawl on her bedroom floor and read books aloud, using different voices for each character. Shoot foam darts down the hall and make a game of trying to beat Duke to them before he gobbles them up and spits them out. Take long walks and bake some more, then drop off the fruits of our labor at friends’ homes.
We watched an episode of The Waltons. Munchie thinks they’re related to the Ingalls. I explained the difference in a sentence or two and she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Let’s call daddy John-Boy!” before darting off to give Duke his daily Dr. Munchie physical exam.
I’ve cleaned up a little here and there. I don’t know how there’s anything left to give when I’ve donated items for months. But I walked in my closet the other day and, in 20 minutes, filled 4 bags to donate. I suppose that means I need to a) lose a few pounds and b) use restraint when in the stores. Or just not enter stores. It’s amazing how quickly the house fills up with things we don’t need. It’s also pretty amazing how quickly we can tire of the things we just had to have and spent hard-earned money on. What a waste.
The bit of excitement this week (for Munchie at least) is that today is my birthday and we have a couple of dinners to attend late in the week. I’m pretty sure she lives for holidays. She celebrates the life outta them. I love to celebrate other people, but I don’t need a fuss made over me. And I don’t long for the attention as I did when I was younger. I’m so thankful for the blessing of each new morning, a chubby little face hovering over me saying, “Goooooood morning, mama! Rise and shine!” That’s enough for me.
She woke me early with a card and picture in hand. I wanted to sleep another half hour or so, but I couldn’t do that to her sweet spirit. I love how hard she worked on figuring out how to spell birthday. 🙂 She’s growing up. Before I know it, we’ll be celebrating her next birthday. As always, Time refuses to slow down.
Well, just wanted to pop in, friends, for a quick visit. It has certainly been a mellow birthday. Maybe years ago I would’ve wished for more excitement, but on my 37th birthday I’m so grateful that I woke to my little family, my quiet life. Content and blessed. A happy birthday indeed. ♥