The Ninetieth Day of Winter

-
Three weeks. That’s how long it has been since I arrived back from California. And that’s how long it has been that someone in our family has been sick. Today seems to be the first day when we’re not dealing with fevers, unusual crankiness, extra loads of laundry and more than usual crummy sleep. 

I’m one of the last ones to pull into the drop off line at school. I’m happy to see that I’m not the last one… not because it makes me look less bad, but because it’s one of my friends. Since we’re the last ones, there is no rush to drive away, and so we linger, catching up. 

Soon it becomes abundantly evident that we could both use an excuse to not go home so she suggests we go visit over warm drinks at a café known as the neighborhood living room. Our little kids play with the provided toys, while we commiserate about being cooped up inside for days on end. She confesses that she realized that week that she hadn’t left her house for three days. That makes me feel abundantly better. She's a born and bread Wisconsinite. I haven't been cooped up in the house just because I don't know how to do winter in Wisconsin.

Once we wrap up, I can’t bare to head back to the house quite yet. It is a sunshiny day, even if it is only twenty-three degrees.

To the zoo we go. Only I hadn’t really planned to take the kids outside today, so I’m obliged to carry BabyMyBoy around in his covered carseat to keep him from freezing.

I also didn’t double layer SmilesBabyGirl’s pants, so seeing the red panda playing in the snow is not enough to overcome her desire to go home and get out of the cold wind. There seems to be only one other visitor to the zoo, and they are on their way out, too. Poor lonely (frozen) zoo.




But the half hour we spend outside has been good. We got fresh air and sunshine. We can go back to the house again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Stone of Help

-
Image
For the longest time I thought “Ebenezer” was a cup. Not just any cup, mind you, one of those old drinking vessels that might also be called goblet or chalice. My reasoning, you see, was all based on the hymn, “Here I raise mine Ebenezer, hither by thy help I’m come.” To my little girl ears, it sounded like someone was proposing a toast, glass in hand to having made it so far. I know better now, but I still feel as if I am far more likely to toast how far I’ve made it than to set a large stone on end. But truthfully, I’m not very likely to do either. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not slighting the role God has had in bringing me as far as I am. And it’s not a lack of gratitude that turns me into being one of the nine lepers who never returned to thank Jesus for his healing. (At least, not always.) Instead, I’ve found that many times I don’t want to draw attention to what God has done for me because I worry it will make others feel as if I am intimating that I am a favor
Read more

The Crazy Market

-
There is a place here in Beijing that I (not so) affectionately call The Crazy Market. Imagine four floors of wall to wall shops, one shop selling the same thing that 15 other shops are selling, all displayed with bright colors and lights and each shop having two or three people who call out "Hello! What are you looking for?" "Hello! We give you good price!" "Hello! How many coats you want buy?" "Hello! We have your size shoe!" (This one makes me want to stop and say "Oh, I greatly doubt it.") "Hello! Nice pearls for you!" If you so much as look at an item, it is immediately assumed that you will buy it and so they call out "What is your highest price? We give you good discount." The only exception to this is the very bottom floor that is filled with every imaginable and unimagineable sea creature and various sea creature parts in various stages of life. This serves as a good aroma which frequently makes its way up t
Read more

The Right Trousers

-
Someone once told me that a friend of theirs received a package from an anonymous person that contained a pair of pants inside. It was mailed from across the country, yet the pair of pants was the right size and style for this particular person. Now I consider that to be a great mystery. But I also consider it a mystery that I wouldn't mind happening to me. Because, you see, playing with children wreaks havoc on my pants. Especially if I have the misfortune to sit down on some unknown substance which then leaves a very unfortunate colored stain in a very, very unfortunate spot. I may have to consider some creative patch work, but that, too, has its problems. I say this because I have another pair of pants that developed a hole the size of Montana near one of the back pockets. (Please do not speculate on the size of the pants based on the size of the hole.) My most beautiful sister, in what I thought was a display of pure magnanimous affection, bought me a couple of patches to fix t
Read more