Just wanted to stop in real quick (as quick as dial-up) to say we’re still here. We were supposed to get high speed installed on Friday, but the guy came out and saw immediately that it would be a much bigger job than he thought given the old wiring in our old farmhouse, and he was already behind because of a huge storm the night before, so he would be back today or tomorrow. Well.
When I’m SO close to high speed, it seems like a huge waste of time to wait six minutes for each page or picture to upload, when any second now I’ll be able to do it in a fraction of the time.
It’s afternoon now, and still no word.
Friday: Nice quiet day at home. Mom decided not to go home for the weekend. Went to a friend’s to do some scrapbooking; got 4 layouts well on their way. Came home in the pouring rain with a migrane.
Saturday: Migrane pretty much all day. That sucked. Saturday night Mom, Dad, Grandma and I spent some great time in worship and prayer, praying against the spiritual attacks it seems we’ve been fighting this week- me with two migranes in four days, Mom with her stomach a ball of anxiety and worry, over what really are small things.
Sunday: Church and a fantastic meal of honey-mustard sirloin kabobs (without the kabobber, which really then, would be small chunks of meat on the grill), potato foil packets, salad. Kevin and I hung out for a long while watching a dumb Jean-Claude movie on TV, but mostly just reconnecting.
Today: We were supposed to meet some friends for a picnic, but Aviana woke up with a fever, so mostly I’ve been cuddling her all day. She’s now blessedly asleep, so of course Brielle wants in on the snuggling action.
I started a new book this weekend too and it is great—Peace Like a River by Lief Enger. It’s not so much the plot that intrigues me, though it isn’t a bad one, but the writing that captures my attention. For example:
He laid up prayer as if with a trowel.
The fog lay rich and steamy over the barnyard. It was warm as manure; you could weigh it in a cupped hand. And it really did smell like April, though I noticed it also smelled like a wet dog; the two are not dissimilar.
It only felt powerful, like truth unhusked.