It was a Monday morning after a really crazy weekend, this past Monday was. I had been away for two days, came home in time for church, fellowship meal and a Sunday afternoon where I did nothing more constructive than work on a puzzle.
Monday morning was an ocean of things to do, but Gabe was home, so it was less intimidating than it could have been. We hauled hampers full of laundry downstairs so that I could work on that while I wrote out the boys’ assignments for the week. I had to check the work they did while I was gone, so it took all forenoon, with Olivia trotting down to ask questions about her school every quarter hour or so. The little girls cleared the clean dishes out of the dishwasher, but they are no good at loading, so the stack of dirty dishes remained on the counter until lunchtime.
There were leftovers in the fridge, thankfully, but I felt like I was swimming in molasses when it came to making actual progress. Gabe had a lot of errands to run and work at his desk. The house was a wreck.
Then the mail came, and in it was a fat package from a friend that I know mostly from cyberspace. It contained a lovely, cheerful bag “for putting things in” and a note of equal cheer.
It lifted me right out of the sticky swimming and put me into a boat with wind in my sails.
Thank you, Carol!