We have been busy at home. Gratefully, the craziness of running here and there has eluded our family this year. We're getting smarter with our scheduling, or saying no more, or, more likely, a combination of the two. Our hands are full, and full of good things. Lots of good books are being read now that we have three curious readers underfoot. We've become fascinated with the Revolutionary War, the heroics of George Washington, the heady times that marked the beginning of our country. How did I graduate with honors and a BA in History and know so very little about the genesis of my own country?
We begin our mornings with piano practice, Pachelbel's Canon and Jingle Bells plunked out with varying degrees of cacophony. The kids play with playdoh and stage boisterous concerts in the basement. The house is often loud. They read side by side on their bellies on the floor. The house is often a mess. Snow arrived in the middle of the night and was greeted this morning with shouts of joy. Even I can appreciate its quiet loveliness as it has covered western New York in a blanket of white. Thanksgiving is next week, and I am grateful for so much.