I am doing something I haven't done thus far in all the posts I've posted here: I'm writing this on the fly, no time to reflect or change things. That's because I'm cheating -- I'm giving you a link to a website that is pretty right on for where we are this week.
You see, the kids have come home to celebrate our anniversary (45!) and here we are, back from the edge and at home, and I am writing this with major interruptions: "Oma, oops, sorry, I broke this." "Hey, Mom, I have a rip in my shorts, do you think you can fix it?" "Oma, that doggy quilt I'm using, can I take it home?" "The dishwasher is loaded, which cycle should I use?" A little naked girl, just out of the tub, is trying to be quiet so Oma can work, but it's hard -- so she's talking to herself, a long dramatic monologue which is very interesting, and stops me from being deeply introspective (Okay, I know, that's a good thing -- it's balancing other parts of my life. Besides, there's another discussion going on downstairs that sounds interesting, too, and I should finish this up pronto so I can get my 2 cents worth into the mix.)
We mostly have leftovers for supper, the floors are covered with damp footprints, there are suitcases in the hallway, and the retractable screen door is off its track. The counter is covered with dirty dishes more often than not because the dishwasher seems to be cranky. The garden hasn't had a good work-over for weeks, so the plants badly need a dead-heading and/or are crazily flopping over. Our home, in a word, is scruffy. And that's a good thing, if you read the suggested post. Scruffy hospitality is a good thing. Let's practice more of it.
Here's to life, in all its messy glory.