This morning I woke up at 5:30, to the sound of softly falling rain and thought “why am I awake at 5:30 on a Sunday?” So I laid there until 6, pondering the dream I had, where my children were 4,2, and 1, and decided I was profoundly grateful the were no longer those ages, because it was not easy. Not in the dream, and not in reality.
Then Terry left for work, and I got ready for church (with my new short haircut that took less than 5 minutes to fool with YAY!). #4 and I went, then as I was pulling into the parking lot, realized that I’d completely forgotten the crockpot full of chicken and rice for the potluck lunch. So 4 was deposited, and I whooshed back home, thankful the the Statesboro Police take Sundays off, and made it back in time to get the last muffin from the bowl, and a seat in Sunday School. Dinner after church (somebody bought a big bowl full of strawberries. I could have just dropped my face straight into it and been satisfied. As it was, Tina and I nearly got into fisticuffs over who would get the last scraping of juice for their pound cake)and as we were leaving the sky was turning ominous.
and now the sky is an interesting shade of sage green, making all sorts of rumbly noises, and intermintently hurling large quantities of water at the ground. The garden will be pleased. The dogs, however, are not. Nor the cats. Gracie just came in, yowling and spitting her displeasure at the universe for having the temerity to make her wet. Phleud had more sense than Gracie, and recognized the possibility of Wet, and came in before it actually happened.