Monday

It is 7:54 Monday morning. Maggie is on her bus, probably arriving at school about now. The nurse is gone, Steve and Tim both left for work early, It is quiet here.It's just the dog and me and the dog is snoozing. No television, no radio, no music. The only sound I hear is the clock ticking in the kitchen. And that is OK with me.

It seems like this is the first quiet I've had in weeks. There have been medical emergencies, wheelchair crises (plural), visitors, deliveries, meetings, hospital tests, rearranging nurses, and phones that have not stopped ringing or buzzing or vibrating or something in weeks.  But today it is quiet. And that is OK with me.

The house is a mess. There is laundry in various states of completion, piles to be washed, piles to be folded and piles to put away. There are papers in every corner of the house that need attention, some I marked URGENT in red letters. The table needs to be shortened following a dinner party the other night. There is garbage to be emptied and a bedroom that looks like a disaster area

I will get to all of those. But not right now. Right now I am going to listen to the ticking clock, and maybe pour myself another cup of coffee and sit down and read a book for 30 minutes.  Wild, I know, but I'm going to throw caution to the wind.

Monday gets such a bad rap,