Kiddo is breathing heavy beside me, borderline snoring through the thunder and lightning. I love storms. At least those of the non-threatening, not gonna blow your house away kind. The snoring blond bundle turns six years old tomorrow. I’m not going to say the usual “I can’t believe how big she’s getting”, or “She’s growing up so fast” because while those things are true, that’s sort of a lame observation isn’t it? She’s getting a pet hamster and having a party at our house with her little munchkin friends. It will be a good birthday.
My trip to PA was awesome and amazing for the most part. Good friends are hard to find. Good friends who are married to each other that you like equally as much, even harder. I think a few days in PA is going to become an annual summer thing for me. No complaints about that. Speaking of trips, Paris is only two weeks away and I feel very unprepared for some reason. We did order euros and I’ll pick those up tomorrow. I need to be rounding up passports, our European plug power adapters, guidebooks, and random stuff like that.
The thunder has subsided and now there’s just a soft murmur of rain that’s making me drowsy. Time to join the kiddo and do that whole snoring thing.
Lodged, by Robert Frost
The rain to the wind said,
‘You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged–though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
