This is a lovely day.

It sort of begs for relaxing in the yard with a good book and a cup of  coffee… it is never too hot for coffee.

I normally don’t blog about politics, but this is worth a moment:

Please watch both these videos –

“Guess who is going to be paying off Bush’s $1 trillion dollar deficit?” Moveon.org asked.

The answer:  The very same people who will be paying off Prez Obama’s $10 trillion dollar deficit.

H/T: hotair

Some days I get to feeling a little out of sorts.  Nothing in particular will be wrong, no tragedy on the horizon, but I will still feel a slight desperation born of knowing how much I have to do and how little time I allow myself to do all those things.  I have a tendency at times to a dark mood where I find myself clutching at sunbeams and frustrated with my inability to catch them.

It is on those days that something happens to remind me of the importance of trajectory over velocity.   It doesn’t matter how fast or slow I may be going as long as I am going in the right direction and no amount of speed will get me where I am going if I am not heading the correct way.  So a dear friend will visit and bring her children, my husband will make a special trip to the store to pick up something I forgot that only affect me (coffee filters), a child will wake up with a happy smile and hug for mommy and the clouds will part for a moment or two and make me relax enough to remember who I am and who I want to be becoming.

I saw a wonderful bit of advice again today.  It is called “The daily decalogue of Pope John XXIII”

1. Only for today, I will seek to live the livelong day positively without wishing to solve the problems of my life all at once.
2. Only for today, I will take the greatest care of my appearance: I will dress modestly; I will not raise my voice; I will be courteous in my behaviour; I will not criticize anyone; I will not claim to improve or to discipline anyone except myself.
3. Only for today, I will be happy in the certainty that I was created to be happy, not only in the other world but also in this one.
4. Only for today, I will adapt to circumstances, without requiring all circumstances to be adapted to my own wishes.
5. Only for today, I will devote 10 minutes of my time to some good reading, remembering that just as food is necessary to the life of the body, so good reading is necessary to the life of the soul.
6. Only for today, I will do one good deed and not tell anyone about it.
7. Only for today, I will do at least one thing I do not like doing; and if my feelings are hurt, I will make sure that no one notices.
8. Only for today, I will make a plan for myself: I may not follow it to the letter, but I will make it. And I will be on guard against two evils: hastiness and indecision.
9. Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that the good Providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in this world.
10. Only for today, I will have no fears. In particular, I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe in goodness. Indeed, for 12 hours I can certainly do what might cause me consternation were I to believe I had to do it all my life.

I have posted this before, but today I needed the reminder.  The sunbeams are there to enjoy and to savor, but they can not be captured in our hand, only remembered in our heart and reflected back out in the love we share with one another.

Hannah’s first confession is on Saturday.  This is a big event for her and she is excited about it.  She worked very hard to get her Act of Contrition memorised for CCD yesterday.  Nothing like waiting to the last moment to push things into high gear, but she did it.  Christopher was the ideal big brother working with her in the car all the way from here to Holy Rosary.  He would read it slowly and she would say it back.  He was patient, kind and supportive – can I cross my fingers and say that he might be maturing a wee bit?

This has been a very unusual spring, a very derailed Lent, and an almost overshadowed Easter.

Yesterday the weather was dreadful, there was heavy rain and hail, deceptive sun-breaks and then more bad weather.   Today the weather has been slowly lifting and the sun is creeping out from behind the clouds and tomorrow promises to be a fine day.  Spring has snuk up on me.  The little blossoms have been there, the snow drops and the crocuses and the daffodils and the tulips have all had their turn.  My favorite lilacs are just starting to appear.  It is in these small,  little things that the truest beauty is.  These little treasures are so easy to miss  when the weather is foul and things aren’t going well, but they are always there just the same.

Monday we went to the Dr’s office for a quick ultra-sound and discovered that we had an anembryonic pregnancy,  it is also called a blighted ovum.  Basically everything developed fine except the baby.

It was such a sad thing looking at the screen with the kind of smooshed looking sac and where the little baby should have been there was nothing, no heart beat, no little arms or legs, no head and spine curled safely and securely inside me, nothing, just an empty space.

nothing is just such a horrible reality.  It creates such a disconnected sense of feelings. I feel like there is a well of grief and sorrow trapped inside my head that I can’t let out.  I am afraid to be around anyone too much because I feel like this dam will break suddenly and without control.   A week ago I was dreaming of little fingers and smooshy noses and a soft bundled nursling.  But it was all just dreams, nothing of substance.   The reality is that my body was every bit as tricked as my mind, so I have all the discomfort of miscarriage without the loss of the baby and I can’t for the life of me figure out if that is better or worse.    It is a loss where nothing was lost except the hope for something that didn’t happen.

Yesterday we travel out to the coast.  Some days I am very well organized and have everything I need, plan for contingencies and all goes smoothly.  That was not yesterday.  I totally spaced bringing a change of clothing for the children, but thankfully the beach house had a washer and dryer.  I also managed to run Hannah’s chap stick through the wash… *sigh*  I guess I have to blame pregnancy hormones for making me a complete twit.

The kids had a fantastic time and so did I.