Laura's in the South!
Last Friday, I spent the last day of my visit with my mom.
We went out to breakfast and ordered coffee and oatmeal—we always order coffee and oatmeal. True, these are foods that can be prepared easily at home, but we do not go out to breakfast for the food. We go for the quiet murmurs of the morning time passersby, we go for the ambiance, and we go for the unhurried conversations that we share. It was a lovely morning, if a little sad as our time together was growing short.
We picked our way around Madison and Sun Prairie, stopping in this shop or that. When finally we made it home, my mother dove into her housecleaning and me into my final round of packing. Meanwhile, Miles and Jason were preparing to travel.
I won't pretend that leaving my beautiful mother has been easy (on either of us), but the joy of having my Miles near helps to distract me from that ache. That, and the marathon of cleaning in which I am currently enrolled. I knew it when I met him, I knew it when I dated him, and I knew it when I married him: Miles is not a good housekeeper.
I feel like a used piñata after yesterday's effort on the house. The place no longer smells of abandonment mixed with dirty socks! Yay! Bring on that fresh air and those gingerbread/pumpkin-spice candles!
AND—!
I SEE THE FLOORS. We have actual carpeting!—actual hardwood flooring!—actual tiling!
Unfortunately, I still feel like I've just barely scratched the surface...but I think I keep seeing glimpses of that elusive light at the end of the tunnel. I think.
My fingertips are raspberry-colored and punctured today, my shins are a coquettish shade of brownish-mauve, and my knees are resisting weight bearing activities...such as standing. I think Laura-efficiency might be slightly decreased today.
It is 9:00 and I have yet to find the enthusiasm to scrub the kitchen floor. My poor, poor knees. I've avoided the unhappy task thus far by seeing to the nearly diminished pile of laundry, baking some tortilla chips to use in a casserole tonight, and cleaning the pan from this morning's blueberry oatmeal pancakes. I'm fresh out of easy-on-the-body chores now.
I'm sure that one day, years from now...years and years and years from now...I will look back and laugh at this. "Hahahaha: Remember the time I was away for 3 months and I came home to a dust mites' frat house!?" Or, maybe not. It depends if I'm able to stand up straight again by that point.
I am, however, grateful for the distraction. I miss you, Momma.
