Sanity Week

There is this spot on route 9 coming up on Croton where the tree line thins to give way to a wide angle view of the river, now half frozen, and the mountains, now scattered with snow but ready to spring back to life.  Today the weather was bleak.  While driving, dark gray clouds monopolized the sky and fat raindrops plummeted onto my windshield in an uneven and obnoxious rhythm.  But among this apparent and broad gloom, I had the same thought I always have on this spot of road as I drove home from home (to Brooklyn, from Garrison) this afternoon.  I am beyond lucky.  I am so fortunate that I feel as though I'm going to have to spend my lifetime trying to pay the universe back for all the good favor present in my life.  Even that will not be enough, but I'll try anyway.

My Valentine's Day Presents from Mom. 

Can you tell that I am feeling well and rested?  It's the product of February break - a welcome week off to rejuvenate the spirits and thus reinvest in the work of the school year.  For this blessed week, I did not travel off to a warm climate or a cultural epicenter.  Instead I spent the week relaxing at home with family and running necessary errands.  I feel like balance has been restored to my being and my surroundings and by Monday I will be all but zen-like. 

Some of the best dogs ever. 

Already?

Thanksgiving was all it's cracked up to be and more.  Now, we have been back in Brooklyn for a week, and life is still pretty great.  Though I was saddled with Mike's cold, I consider this week to have been a good one.  Lola turned a year, and we celebrating by giving her extra treats and a pink elephant squeaky toy with "happy birthday" embroidered on the side.  In dog food terms, she's an adult.  No more puppy food.  Unreal. 

I cannot believe that today is December 3.  It doesn't seem possible that I've been with this class of kids for almost four months, or that I'll be in Hawaii (with Rachel!) in a mere twenty days.  To me, it seems as though this school year just started, that fall hasn't yet ended, and that Christmas is a million miles away.  But it didn't, it has, and it isn't.  We're well on our way to 2011, the year in which I'll officially be "mid-twenties," the year we'll get married.  Only a few years ago, both these impending concepts seemed absurd.  The other day I got to talk to Rachel for a while and she made a very salient point: the older we get, the faster time seems to pass.  Though it feels unfair at times, I take the phenomenon as a very good sign; we're growing up, we're growing in, and what will define us and our lives is slowly beginning to materialize.