Things that make me happy today

• Being stopped dead in my tracks by Erin's singing of "The Wizard and I" even though I've heard her sing this song a zillion times. The girl needs to star in a musical.
  
• Hearing Brady's French teacher's pure joy about Brady's natural abilities to speak the French language, an extraordinary feat for an American, she claims.
• Singing every word along with Pat Benatar's "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" (which I didn't put on our family's iPod), while preparing lunch, as a shout-out against my illness. (Who knew, when I was a freshman in college and my girlfriends and I learned an aerobic dance routine to this song, in the basement of our dormitory, how much I'd appreciate it so many years later?)
  
• Finishing my reread of Sorcery and Cecilia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot, a story that is a cross between Harry Potter and Pride and Prejudice, and has a romantic moment that rates right up there with P&P's romantic moment.
• Erin, in the kitchen, bending my ear, telling all that she's learned about acting and moviemaking from the latest good interview she's found on the Internet.
• How beautifully rich Erin's fuchsia-tipped roses, look against the black marble-like tile of our living room fireplace.
  
• The glimpses of sunshine, which indicates that our latest bad, low pressure system has emptied its snow and rain-filled clouds and is heading out of town.
• The odd thrill of not knowing which American Idol contestant is going home tonight, even though I know I'll be sad no matter who gets axed.
• My husband's willingness to go the grocery store, after his long day at work.
  

We're not alone

A friend of mine recently gave me the name of a family who is in the midst of a journey not altogether different than ours. I quickly connected to them by e-mail. In the month we've been in touch, they've already given me a great deal of support and encouragement. The husband and wife write frequent posts on each of their own blogs, which are highly recommended reading for anyone who desires further glimpses of the joys and sorrows faced in the day to day life of those with difficult health problems.

Today's post by the mom/wife, Andrea, is particularly good. (Any post that quotes Charles Dickens gets points in my book.) We have these kinds of Charles Dickens days at our home, too. Things can get low as can be with much despair and pain, but an hour, or so, later we'll be able smile at the beauty of the sunset, then laugh, boo, and cheer together, in front of the TV, watching American Idol. We go to bed thankful.

We're hoping our families get to meet while we're in Arizona. The connection we've already established is a like a new spring garden. We look forward to to it blossoming while we all grow into better health.

Photo of the Week (17)

Rehearsal



Other Photo of the Week posts:
Breakaway
Fields of Gold

Easter Week

Picture of the Week (16)

Sunshine


Other Photo of the Week posts:
Breakaway
Fields of Gold

Photo of the Week (15)

Springtime



Other Photo of the Week posts:
Breakaway
Fields of Gold

From my reading

No one ever finishes his life. Nothing is ever complete. Our souls are in the things we love and the ways we arrange them. Into the Tangle of the Friendship: A Memoir of the Things that Matter Most, by Beth Kephart

It's all connected in strange, mysterious ways, she guesses...the sprinklers, the M*A*S*H reruns, the tree frog, the dogs, even Mr. Henderson...all connected in ways they can't ever know, ways only she can sense, because on this dark, starry night she is there to hear them. She is there to listen. A Room on Lorelei Street, by Mary E. Pearson

...I'll be back in school soon. Or maybe not. Maybe I really will take the rest of the semester off. Might make me graduate late, might even set me back a whole year. So what? Years don't scare me anymore. Things Not Seen, by Andrew Clements

But these afflictions were mild compared to the awesome loneliness, and in the way of prisoners since the beginning of time he spent countless hours savoring the lost, now clarified sweetness of ordinary days. The people in his life seemed so precious to him - I love you all! he wanted to tell them, his parents, and siblings, the biology department secretaries, his affable though self-absorbed and deeply flawed professors. Brief Encounters with Che Guevara, by Ben Fountain