I alone am awake, head stuffy, body weary though awake from a afternoon nap. The rest sleep. Chris home from work has lost an octave when he speaks. Abigail's nose has been running with such abandon that her entire upper lip has become chapped. And Simon the final one to succumb sleeps deeply in his body's last ditch effort to be excess-mucus free.
The cancellation of our Christmas party sent out left us ham rich, thawed, huge. I just turned the oven off. We will be eating ham till the cows come home. And since we have no cows you know just how long that will be. But for an ill mother who must mother regardless hunks of meat meant to feed a crowd promise moments of rest that would otherwise be spent in work. Dinner will come early this evening. I know sugar is an enemy of the immune system, but a lovely dessert is just what this mama feels her little clan needs. What shall it be--warm and cakey and easily made, gentle on throats and giving delight to bellies? That sounds just like pudding!
Simon even feeling badly has left Chris surprised with his busyness and his noise. It does seem he is always making noise, always. For everything has a sound effect!And many things require discussion, laughter and clapping. This is not mentioning the obstacle course that our house naturally is with this twenty-month old boy.
Abigail has been basking in Chris's presence with a book virtually the entire day. She did move to my lap in order to finish a time-telling activity in her Cubbies gift from last night. Soon maybe we will be putting an analog clock in her room to mark sleep and wake. She has admitted that her cake experiment may have been a flop. We won't be eating the remainder though the next time I bake, I am positive she will want to try again. An opportunity to encourage proper execution.
The natives have awaken. The snow is sticking finally to the road. And the cardinal is high in our neighbor's maple tree. I think he knows he is making a statement against the cold harshness of a winter storm. It is a good day.