A quiet, unremarkable day, but I’m sitting at my desk looking at a sleeping dog curled in her favorite chair, perfectly content, sure that she is safe. Today, when my daughter came in after work, Sophie directed her to my bedroom because I’d been napping. But I’d gotten up and gone to the bathroom. Sophie barked and yipped at Jordan to follow her and went to stand and bark (her view of talking) outside the door, telling Jord that’s where I was. (Usually she just barges through the door, destroying any semblance of privacy.) She was doing her job as keeper of the castle. Now she’s relaxed her duties.
Last might Megan called and asked “Guess what I’m doing?” She was making her grandmother’s roll dough, something I haven’t done in years. She had a false start, called for advice, and started over again. But her dough rose beautifully, as I warned it would, and I suggested she roll it out, bake rolls at home, and freeze instead of trying to do it Christmas day in a rental kitchen. So proud she wants to carry on the tradition.
Jacob to me last night: “I acolyted today, Juju.” Priceless. Jacob and I had a crisis today—he landed here at 1:00 p.m. not having had lunch and asked for waffles (is this a spoiled kid?). I couldn’t find the new syrup I knew I had, so he had the tag end of a bottle which barely moistened his waffles but he ate them all. When his mom came, she found two new bottles plus the jar of honey I couldn’t find (she recently rearranged my cupboard).
Lunch with a good friend—we were serious about some matters (I think she worries about my tremors and uncertain footing and so watches me carefully) but we ended up laughing a lot. I suggested we make a pact to always laugh and not become those old people who always see the downside of things and end up being glum.
Presents are wrapped—when Jordan saw them, she called me Mrs. Claus; grocery lists made, and I’m all ready for Christmas, so the days are made up of these small, precious moments. I’m wishing the same for each of you.