The Boston Marathon bombings took a little wind out of my sails. I think often of the Richard family who lost a son, but so many others whose lives are changed forever. The week feels becalmed, but perhaps quietly paying attention to the small joys is the best way to begin to mend sadness and chaos.
Opening the kitchen doors this morning to a misty world...
Birds singing out in the foggy woods, serenading us at breakfast...
Making it a point to soak up silly boy joy today...
(The pictures are actually from Saturday.)
I'm on another short stretch of solo parenting this week and felt in need of a little TLC. I hit the save button on my book project early, heading to get a pedicure before time to pick up Little Guy from school. I used to think pedicures were a little odd and pointless -- until I had my first one. How can something that feels so nice (love the message part!) also leave your toes looking so nice? Since my toes are one of the parts of my body I see the most, it feels very worth the effort.
I got a spring-like peach color and then, on a whim, asked if the lady could put on a couple of little white daisies. Bless her. There was a language gap, but also a difference in aesthetics. She made two cute daisies, but then just kept on going. Before long I had three colors of detailing, silver metallic edging, and tiny blue rhinestones. I was having too much fun watching to stop her, even if the results are pretty over-the-top for my tastes. She had an amazingly steady hand and a true artist's confidence.
I grin every time I look down.
A little better now. I hope those in grief find some small joys too...
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