Hot Baby in the Summertime

Poor little Gopher is home today with a fever.

Poor little mama has nothing to say except “Poor Little Gopher.”

I am working from home this afternoon, otherwise known as Livin’ the Dream.

Also, I am hungry. For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to follow the rules of the No S Diet, which is both difficult and easy– and so ridiculously straightfoward it makes cheating difficult to rationalize. Finally, a worthy adversary to my superhero rationalizing powers. Dammit.

Just returned from a truly lovely weekend at a cabin in the mountains with Mr. and Mrs. Littlebrother and their sweet little Izzy. Could have used, like, 5 extra days. We had pool access, a gorgeous view, a raccoon visitor that both terrified and delighted Birdy, plenty of food and drink, and nothing to do but be together. Much needed, much appreciated, much much much. I/ we are lucky.

Ah, the being lucky. Something I am so acutely aware of lately, as I respond in my puny human-logic way to the big and non-specific brewing change I’ve been feeling the last few months– this low thundery thing in the distance.*

What I have is lovely. NOW is so good. I’ve worked hard for this– to be able to do the things we do and have the this lifestyle– this non-extravagant thing, this vanilla-with-just-a-few-sprinkles life. This security and safety (relative to the salad days). This alignment with “how it’s supposed to be/ look/ work.” I envisioned this. I have this (mostly) under control. The bumps in the road are few and mild these days, just daily non-drama in our happily predictable little world.

So, naturally, it’s time to turn the canoe toward the falls, right?

*totally not pregnant, btw.

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