Outside my window: windy and overcast. It’s only seven o’clock and my clothesline has already blown over. I’m hoping the wind will blow some of the cool morning air into the house before I have to close it all up again.
In the kitchen: sleeping bags. We went camping this weekend, and the sleeping bag that kept sticking in my face while we slept smelled terrible. I’m not sure if it was actually the feet inside or the bag that stank, but the feet have all been washed and the bags are in line for the washing machine. Hopefully tomorrow I can think about food again.
In the school room: today’s schedule includes “Design Thinking” at Owen’s STEM camp, the first day of Momo’s theater camp, dance class for the girls, and swim team. If I can make it out of the car, I hope to take a deeper look at our fall once-a-week class offerings to formulate our autumn.
On my mind: how I should be fighting racism in our country. It’s not an easy question, and I’m sure the answer won’t be easy, either. But it’s not right that so many people in our country have no choice but to experience it every day, while I can sail by and choose not to think about it if I’m not in the mood. I don’t want to be complicit simply by standing by.
Grateful for: roses. our camping trip: for sailing and canoeing and That Owen’s laceration wasn’t worse (he cut his hand).
Praying for: families in Charleston, refugees and IDPs all around the world. Those affected by Ebola. Mandy, Judy, my dad. Foster parents and kids. The Neals and Simons.