Thursday, January 31, 2013
paths made by dogs
How weird is this: my eldest daughter found my water bottle. So check that item off the "lost list."
She knew where it was all along. In fact, it was in her messy room, as pictured in yesterday's post! Apparently I brought it to her myself on Friday night, around 3 o'clock in the morning, when she was having a croupy coughing fit. I remember the croupy cough (and the momentary fear that it might progress, like CJ's did last fall, to emergency room proportions). I remember, vaguely, rushing to her room with concern. I remember nothing about fetching her a water bottle, let alone my water bottle. She's been drinking out of it ever since.
Guess I was tired.
Early this morning, when the location of my bottle was still a mystery, I took a glass canning jar to hot yoga. It worked quite well, actually.
My week days have a very particular shape right now, which I find soothing. Mid-winter calm.
Early morning, dark: exercise, usually with a friend.
Breakfast: with children, prepare for school.
Mid-morning til early afternoon: cup of coffee, office, writing.
Somewhere between 1 and 2: lunch, leftovers. If really lucky, meet husband or friend for lunch.
Mid-afternoon: more writing, somewhat frantic, one eye on clock.
3:45: children home. Save work, leave office.
Late afternoon: snacks, supper prep, laundry, catching up, homework, piano practice, hugs, listening, radio (sometimes), noise, dogs, friends.
Early evening: ferry children to and from activities.
Supper: sometimes early, sometimes late, as together as we can manage.
After supper: dishes, snacks, homework, laundry, piano, teeth, reading, talking, children to bed.
After 9pm: sit on couch with tea and dogs and Kevin (when possible), talk with big kids (sometimes), read in bed (always).
At yoga, and when I run, I tend to meditate on staying in the moment. Be here now, I tell myself.
I love my schedule right now, as plotted out above. But I know that it will change, as every schedule I've ever enjoyed has changed, and drastically. The point is not to worry about what may come, and how all the pieces will fit together in the future, but to enjoy what is here, right now.
Right now I am watching the wind blow the snow around, and hey, there's a neighbour I know walking by! (Yes, neighbours, I watch you walk by all day). I am enjoying the feeling of having met a deadline. I am finishing a square of dark chocolate. There are black beans with garlic simmering on the stove, and they smell really good. My office is toasty warm. The dogs are sleeping near me in their beds.
It is so quiet.