It has not been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon.
Without going into the mucky details, let’s just say that the Wildwind establishment started last week with three long-term, expensive, emotionally-draining family issues barreling towards resolution all at once. During the week we picked up two shorter-term, slightly less expensive, and a whole lot more emotionally-draining mini-crises.
Let me assure you that things are going as well as can be expected. There is a good possibility we will clear away the muck by the end of February, and, for now, I grateful for a whole lot of things.
I’m grateful we had cooked food in the freezer because we sure don’t have the energy or time to do a lot of meal planning right now.
I’m grateful that I keep a journal because it is such a relief to pour observations into in throughout the day.
I’m grateful that all of these issues are self-limiting and we will find our way through them.
I’m grateful for the group of writers that I spent last Wednesday evening with in a coffee shop because they not only got me out of myself but gave me some goals to aim for after the dust settles.
I’m grateful that I actually remembered that this morning was Tuesday, and I apologize for the slight delay in posting this blog.
Quote for the week:
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
~Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)