The skies were overcast this morning. Quiet and muted. Just like I like them.
There is so little expectation from a cloudy sky, like the whole universe is telling you that all the work you should do today is internal work, that you should take some time to nurture a few dreams, quiet your mind, be a little slower and also a little more generous.
It was pouring by the time I left yoga. I put my hood up, even though I was already soaked through. It seemed like the right gesture for winter.
But it is already starting to clear. The sun is relentless here. My sweater just feels silly. It was winter for a good part of one day.
I finished the first season of the Serial podcast while I ate my lunch of homemade toast and Noosa. The rain and the butter dripping, the nutty crunch of the toast, Sarah Koenig's voice winding it's way around a difficult conclusion...believe me, it was delightful on every level. While I loved the podcast, and while I could listen to Koenig talk about absolutely nothing at all for hours at a time, I have to admit it left me feeling a little dissatisfied at the end. And a little lonely at its ending at all. I ate another piece of toast as consolation. And thought about throwing a Serial-themed dinner party to hash it all out. Wanna come? I'm planning a delicious menu, on my good dishes, and poster-sized blowups of exhibits A-L. Be prepared to make your case.
We had a lovely weekend. Caleb and Olivia each got roles in their school plays, Caleb the lead and Olivia in the ensemble. They are thrilled and there was the requisite shrieking and squealing and humming through the entire weekend. David and I went to the temple Friday night and then had a terrific fight. The shock of leaving the Garden, I suppose. Spent Saturday under cloudy skies, culling through closets and drawers dejunking and reorganizing and making up. We took a trip to Mesa on Sunday and went to church with old friends and had brunch with my parents. It was like a dry run of resurrection morning, hugs and laughing and remembering when, with the warmest wishes you could ever receive. I've been feeling the sweet afterglow ever since, like that warm, buoyant pause after a good, hard laugh.
It was a good reminder for me that coming home should always feel like that. Welcome home. You've been sincerely and deeply missed. Even if it was only for the school day or the work day. Plenty long enough to be missed.
Two days removed from a glorious weekend together, I know this for sure.