Thank you to the wonderful team at Two Writing Teachers for keeping me honest and writing. Link up here.
The three of us got home a little late last evening. A doctor appointment, workouts and musical rehearsal kept each of us busy from the end of school until six p.m. when we met at the grocery store to pick up a few items for the week ahead. We raced home in two cars and began the evening routines of feeding pets, starting dinner and stoking the fire. Claire took over the pets, I seasoned the chicken, popped it in the oven, and then turned my attention to the fire, and Frances washed and dried the greens for our kale salad. The girls settled down to start homework while the chicken cooked. I found the UVA basketball game on TV and watched out of the corner of my eye while unloading the dishwasher.
After a whirlwind afternoon and arrival home, calm began to descend on the house. I could feel my breathing slow. The chill in the room receded as the fire grew hotter. Finally, we sat down to dinner. It wasn’t an evening to linger- the girls had mountains of homework, and I wanted to be ready for a twitter chat in less than an hour. We divided the after dinner chores and soon the kitchen was clean.
But just before we each returned to our own corner to return to work, this happened:
Frances: Did you hear we are getting 10 more days of winter?
Me:You mean 6 weeks?
Me: You do realize that forecast is coming from a groundhog, right?
Frances: Mom, I’ve believed in that stuff all my life.
And we both started to laugh, because it is true. She believes in it all. She loves the traditions, the folklore and all things innocent and pure. I’m going to miss that silly happy girl when she heads off to college in the fall.