right from the start,
i could not calm my head.
plans for the day changed when
my youngest woke up with pink eye
(highly contagious and dreaded by mamas everywhere).
gears changed quickly
from packing things to play with neighborhood friends,
to listing things that would hold our interest inside as we washed our hands
and remembered almost every time not to touch our eyes.
through it all my mind raced,
bounding from disinfectant to diversions,
from legos to new ways to knit new things (yes, my head truly works like this).
despite the clutter of new ideas,
i could nail nothing down
and the constant swirling begged the beginnings of a headache.a walk outside was needed, so i took one.
my head began to ease up on the chaos
and settled back into the wonderment of the way that
the world was built to work.
for me today, the reality of this little lichen
(about the size of a quarter from side to side),
it’s small and often in harm’s way
(it is, after all, attached to a much traveled piece of pavement),
but when i focus on the small space it inhabits
i can see its beauty
in all the tiny details of what it is. and what it’s not feels really unimportant.
the blur around it (which i captured by accident with no filter or editing)
doesn’t lessen the rightness of right where it is,
just being itself.
once i was able to come back inside with some perspective,
my 10 yr old and i made this pom pom through teamwork(ok, and a knitpicks tutorial on the use of the clover pom pom maker).
a bit later, i enjoyed my rough attempts
at everything from ‘amazing grace’, to ‘the boxer’
on my new Christmas present.now, my cleared head in tow,
i will take to my bed with a snack and a book
to recharge and refuel
for whatever tomorrow may bring.
go ahead and bring on the last day of 2016.
i’m as ready as i’m going to be.