Sometimes you just have to stop and have a picnic.
I have fifty eleven things to do today, not the least of which include sundry piles of laundry and papers to go through. Then there are the appointments I must make and keep. Life couldn't be more full for me. I feel like the woman twisting and turning to make it through Fat Man's Squeeze at Mammoth Cave, and all the while regretting that I'm not as thin or agile as I used to be. How do I get so utterly consumed when I endeavor to live a simple life?
But it's my 43rd birthday and my daughter made a picnic for Peace and I on the front lawn. Never mind that my entire meal consisted of the fifteenth day of Boost alone while Peace and she feasted on hard boiled eggs, peanut butter, and Boy Scout popcorn leftover from November. She was even willing to pour the energy and vitamin drink into a bowl or cup for me to make it special. Pooh Bear spread a quilt and put out her best flower-shaped green plates and bowls. I was presented with thoughtful cards made collaboratively by my children. I opened lovely presents left on the table for me by my husband. I look forward to a promised dinner date out when my allergy issues are treated. The weather was as pleasant as a Sunday afternoon drive to nowhere in particular in the summer.
It's hard for me to stop doing and just be in the moment prepared by my eight year old child, but what could be more important?
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