First of February

It's February first. I cannot believe how quickly the calendar changes. I'm noticing that the sun is rising earlier and setting later. Slowly and then all at once it seems the days lengthen, the season passes, everything changes. The showy sky caught my eye this morning as I came down the stairs to a still shadowless house. I could see the day breaking bright in the east so I went outside in the cold with bed head and bare feet to take a picture. 

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Lily's home sick for the second day this week. She didn't miss a single day of school last year. She really didn't want to miss a day this year either. Both mornings she got up and ready before realizing she needed to go back to bed. It wasn't an easy decision. When I got home yesterday, she was doing her homework. She went on the portal to get her assignments without a single prod. I just hope she feels better tomorrow, and that she's always this responsible.

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This week it was decided that Ted needs to get himself up in the morning. He has two alarms: a clock and a phone. So far he hasn't been successful. Last night he actually set an alarm, but he slept through it this morning. I guess one could call that progress. He starts his job tonight. My thoughts on this are complicated. It's a rite of passage. I'm proud that he'll earn his own money, learn responsibility and strengthen his work ethic, but I'm also melancholy that he's giving up so much of his free time. He's still a kid, and I want him to act like one. No mixed messaging going on here. Add to that the fact that I think it's going to be a bit of a rude awakening. He earned $30 shoveling our neighbor's driveway and walk yesterday. That took him about 5 minutes. You do the math. In fact, he went to do it sweaty straight after a workout in shorts and t shirt and didn't even have time to get cold. Let's just say that his hourly wage for bagging groceries is much much less. Also he's got 3 shifts...15 hours this week. That seems like a lot to me. I just hope it's not too much.

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Of them all, it was the true love. Of them all, it was the best. That other, that sumptuous love which made one drunk, which one longed for, envied, believed in, that was not life. But to be close to a child, for whom one spent everything, whose life was protected and nourished by one's own, to have that child beside one, at peace, was the real, the deepest, the only joy.

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I still have Salter on my mind. Or more like Viri and Nedra. I don't think parental love is the best or only. I just think it's the most organic and fierce. All of love is quite awesome.

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There are plenty of things I should do today. I'm pretty sure that reading, signing on here, cooking, and editing pictures are diversion tactics from the real work in my purview. I'm almost an expert procrastinator, but you should see these crustless quiche I made for the rest of the week, the perfect 6 minute egg I enjoyed for this morning's breakfast, that morning sunrise I exulted. I'm so very easily distracted, and yet I often prefer to see that as a good thing thank you. The sun is out exposing all the dust bunnies in the corners. I know spring is coming because the boys are shedding like mad. I should clean, but the temperature is much warmer than it will be the next couple of days so I think a long walk is in order. Perhaps a Moth podcast or two.Then maybe I'll vacuum before I make Lily something comforting to eat and Teddy something hearty to tide him over until a late dinner after work. Taking care of this house and my family brings me more joy than one woman deserves. This I tell you is one of the only things I know for sure day in and day out, no matter the season.