A Dark and Drizzly Weekend

My weekend really wasn’t that great.  It was dark.  It was drizzly. It was foggy.   And the honest truth is that it was full of grief for my lost baby, that kind of debilitating grief that sneaks up on a person when they very least expect it.  I wish that it would just quit appearing at surprising times.  In the words kindly spoken by  my husband, “I hope when this finally gets better you are at least able to help someone else grieve.  Because your brain is really messed up.”  At least I know that my brain is messed up.  And I know it will get better.

I let everyone make a mess in my house and I went to bed and read a few books.  At least when you read a book you are engrossed in someone else’s problems.

And now it’s Monday and there is a bit of snow on the ground and the house is cold and I’m up and running.  I think it’s going to be a productive day around here:  some cleaning, some students, and a busy little person who has a lot of ideas.