Matters of Grace

.... don't even think about trying to escape. Yesterday I had a really, REALLY bad day. It was the type of day where you wake up thinking life is good, then half way through realize it's nothing but a steaming pile of unpaid bills gone to collections (with interest.) The type of day that makes you want to sing old blues songs, like: Once I built a tower to the sun, Brick and rivet and lime, Once I built a tower, now it's done, Brother, can you spare a dime? It was the type of day that makes you want to cry out things like 'why me' or 'it's not fair!' And people try to come to you and say things like 'it's okay' or 'one day at a time' or some other pithy phrase that makes you feel like this: And just when I wanted to crawl into a dark pit, cover myself with ashes and dwell in my misery forever, I looked up to see my three kids...... ...and they were d a n c i n g . All three of them were smiling and cutting a rug, wavin...

I decided to celebrate the Spring Equinox by riding my newly repaired beach cruiser to work and back. What a difference it made with my (usually) drab commute.... ... I would have never guessed that the very fields I had zipped by, morning after morning were, in reality, ripe with wildflowers, butterflies and songbirds! As I peddled along I was surrounded by the sweet delicious aroma of life and there was no one around to share it with aside from the egrets, songbirds and fiddlenecks. John Lennon was right; life is what happens when we're busy doing... whatever it is we think we are doing. In any case, I think I'll be taking my bike from now on. mas rica.

I'm sitting in my living room - sipping the last wee bit of the Montagne Saint-Emilion - watching my two year old learn to scissor. Scissoring is it's the most marvelous thing when you are 2 or 3. With the coloringbook picture in one hand, and red-handled safety scissors in the other, she purposefully *snip-snip-snips* her way all around the paper's edge. When she's done with her scissoring and coloring, we'll hang it on the fridge. My seven year old, meanwhile, is practicing for his baseball game in the back yard. He's positioned himself right in my line of view and every few hits he waves and yells out 'how was that one?' "Great job!" I think my eleven is cleaning his room, I'll check in a moment and see how its going. Three happy kids and three happy cats - how wonderful! I know it won't last as our days are peppered with the occasional kid melt down, but this particular moment is one of life's sweeter melodies. ~Grace