One Day Follows Another

...as if each hour were holding hands with the next. A steady trickle and then a stream of lively sounds reverberate as the weekend pushes its way in. The college two are home, checking their facebook and their e-mail; a new Indonesian dorm student quietly finds her room and shower, as she survives this first exposure to what is going to be her "home-weekend" place for the month, my oldest daughter comes to visit, bringing her own two (or is it too) energetic offspring. Music explodes from the piano and the organ along with the boing boinging of a large blue, plastic ball. To add to all this confusion, each grandchild brings two imaginary friends and proceeds to tell me, and show me, how fast Stikrit can run or how crazily Goki can dance. Grandpa Turtle teases the little ones. Saturday evening comes, with a quiet singing service--praise to lift the weariest, and Sunday at church I live in joy--with such friends all sharing lavishly their stories and their sorrows of the week.

Ah yes. We have wild weekends. The kind of wild I like.

Then, just as soon, they all fly away; the noise is gone...and home is quiet and relaxing...
until Monday drags through the door and I go driving off myself to a world of bells and bright eyes. But that's my next story.


Here are Zaya and Mim--playing with the little cash register. You've been there, haven't you.