Hope Floats

This plant grew from some tiny seeds I scattered on the soil from a Butterfly Garden packet--an afterthought, because the rest were carefully sown in big pots. I don't know what it's called, but that baby speck of goodness took hold and the tall, strong plant is reaching for the sun and making many hopeful orange flowers even now, on September 28.

Rough week. One smooth stone among the jagged cliffs: Punch's paternal grandma, Hope, came yesterday as planned and took Punch for the weekend. Hope is a school principal, pretty, stylish, slim, friendly, upbeat, and a bit younger than me; she had Punch's Dad at a young age. He is no longer living. Hope lives with her husband 2 1/2 hours from us, in South Jersey.

Deep breath. In, out, in, out. Sat on grassy island on our block in yoga position, and breathed. Brushed and flossed teeth, brushed hair. Shopped at sidewalk sale and scored two fashion finds. Had breakfast burrito. Went to support group. Am about to start hanging tons of my clean clothes that have been piled in our bedroom since Punch abruptly moved in August 17. Haven't been able to keep up. Wash clothes, don't hang them. Wear them, throw into pile. Haven't been able to find my favorite pair of earrings [silver with turquoise] for over a month. Will also nap, read [our book group is meeting re. The Great Gatsby tomorrow evening] and maybe even write some thank you notes. Tonight, H. working at a party and I'm going to see the "Salinger" documentary with my friend Elly.

I have so many things to be thankful for. And I'm thankful for being able to see that clearly even in a forest of teetering trees. I'm grateful for the gift of perspective.

Enjoy your day.