Daybook: mid-December

Outside my window: snowman Fred is dead.  His head fell off and he melted.
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from Saturday’s walk by the stream

In the kitchen: chicken is marinating for dinner.  Lunches for our planetarium adventure are packed.  My dad is rattling around with the dishes.

For Advent: we have two advent calendars going– one weekly, one daily.  The kids are talking about yesterday’s sermon at church and yesterday’s youth class on the Creed.  Lots of good stuff there without my having to organize much. That’s a blessing this year.

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from last year’s tree

On my mind: we’re looking ahead to this spring’s 30 hour famine.  I have two youth leaders willing to help: one with the event, one with a 5K run to raise money for it.  The youth seem excited about it, and I’m grateful.

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very excited to be wearing dangly earrings from Aunt Meg

Reading: my own reading is fairly dead in the water lately.  I just can’t settle mentally enough to engage with a new book.  But we’re reading By the Shores of Silver Lake (Wilder) and Little Women (Alcott) right now, which are  both dear to me and will continue into the break ahead.  Right now that has to be enough.

In my shoes: I was looking at my running log this weekend and realized that I was 16 miles away from completing 1000 (lifetime) miles.  That’s 1000 miles in 30 months. Not earth-shattering, but a milestone for me. So I’ve committed to running a mile a day until Dec 31 to finish my 1000 before the end of the year.

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yet another wise man joins the throng

In the schoolroom: Planetarium today with friends.  We will finish our first semester on Friday.  Given the challenges of this fall, I am very happy with that.

Grateful for: this weekend’s half nutcracker and dance recital. That the piano recital did not happen.  That Sam is feeling [much] better.  For Mandy’s improvement yesterday.  For the diversity and talent in our church’s music team– and their willingness to share with us.  For Jenn, who lovingly taught the children yesterday.

Praying for: grace.  There is such temptation to snip at each other over such petty things: who got which candy cane and whose coat sleeve is in whose space… we’re just tired and antsy.  (That’s the opposite of restful waiting.)  We need to slow it down.  But my parents are both feeling under the weather, so we’re trying to be scarce underfoot… so anyway, I praying for grace.  For Mandy.  For Jerusha.  For Sam.  For very, very cold Syrian refugees, and wet Filipino refugees and frightened Burmese refugees and refugees everywhere who really can’t settle.

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