Friday, March 10, 2017

Pain perdu

It's hard to believe it's Friday. Another week, flown by.

Wednesday was the hardest of the days yet--begun and finished with heavy heart. It was the hardest of the days. The hardest.

Yesterday, I felt so grateful for love, lifted. I had received very unexpected texts and messages from people just reaching out to me. It brought new tears, but the grateful kind. The kids and I had many errands to run regarding my father, but then we went to Walmart and grabbed a few accessories to go by a friend's house. Her daughter turned fourteen--and we pinned her with a birthday girl pin, presented her with a rainbow of balloons, doused her in a webbing of silly string, and brought chocolate milkshakes for all to indulge. I loved her smile. It meant more than my own.

Erin and I wrapped up reading The Poet's Dog by Patricia MacLachlan, after which Erin cried about missing our cat, Rudy. We spent some time outside, and visiting with a neighbor and her pooch. I made a new dinner last night that I'll definitely make again for a Friday when Linda comes back.

(I miss her.)

The girls and I went for a quiet night ride under a big, bright moon to the library. I could hear the spring peepers singing. Books on hold, and a few videos. I told the kids that if it snowed (Friday), I would make French toast and hot chocolate for breakfast.

We woke to rain. The kids were bummed. We haven't had a real snow all winter (in some ways, a blessing!). I made French toast anyway, and skeptically looked at the basket of coffee pods. There's no way our stash will make the weekend.

"Mom, how do you say French toast in French?" Lanie asked. I had no idea.

So I looked online. A descriptive blurb accompanied, and who knows what blurbs are believable, but if you want a little historical morsel to accompany, enjoy:

http://wonderopolis.org/wonder/where-does-french-toast-come-from

Moving on to a Friday at home. Outside, now, fat flakes falling. Getting reading to start a fire. Savoring the last of my second cup of coffee. Erin bundles up in winter gear to a freezy start with the dog--she's my outdoor girl.

Watching the snow. Glad to be home.

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