Here At Home

There was a morning, early on in the week of vacation, where I was lagging behind in the charge of shell seeking kids, along the shore's line. The coffee in my hand was no longer hot, the waves rhythmically crashing against my feet were an awakening cold, and my mind was clear. The kind of absent mindedness where I just followed suit in the kid's path, caught up in the sounds of the ocean filling the emptiness.

I wish I could continue on from here, going on about how there was a centering of perspective, a cease the day mentality that was not only concentrated, but effortlessly driven by the very fibers of life's simple goods and patience for it all to match.

But I can't.

Don't get me wrong… the rest of the vacation was perfect…but it's in this very moment, where I'm feeling rather overwhelmed with all there is to do and be done… that that morning, feels so very far away.

The kids have been at each other's throats so badly the last 7 days and I haven't been handling it as calmly as I would like to admit. The amount of house flies we have in our house is infuriating and the little potato that fell beside the 'potato basket' has done a fine job spoiling and stinking up my laundry room.

I woke up this morning, feeling like I was in the movie ground hog's day. Equal efforts going into each day, but never getting ahead from the previous…

I'm spinning my wheels a great deal lately, nearly sure reality is somehow paying me back, for taking a week off, but I must say, as hard of a time as I am having, getting back into my home time groove, I can make a pretty good argument that it was well worth it...