And another day begins, and your feet lurch forward on the well-trodden path. God doesn’t speak with a bullhorn or by sending express telegrams, but through strangers and old friends. Somehow it all gets done and when the sun sets, you are surprised that another day is over and you’re still breathing. And then there is sleep, which “knits up the raveled sleeve of care”…
The wild kingdom still reigns in the house, especially when the felines are hungry.
Children still have to be fed, clothed, entertained, educated, separated.
Grief finds an outlet in reaching out to other hurting people.
The house is like a 24 hour factory: it keeps churning out laundry, dishes and clutter.
While the sun sometimes feels like an affront, it keeps shining.