the mud

Today's weather forecast:  8 degrees above normal. There will be a high pressure system moving in that will blanket you with sunshine.  You will smile and breathe deeply because it feels so good to get out there in the sun and the warmth.  It will feel like a little gift. But then you will say, "Wait, this is February.  This is not normal."  You're right, about 8 degrees above normal.  And that's not just the weather. It seems like our world is now operating at 8 degrees above normal. Can we just go back to normal? It's February.  Normally a blanket of snow would cover the ground.  You would be making hot chocolate and cherry pie for President's Day.  You would light a fire and a candle and snuggle up with a book.  But with that sunshine and high pressure also comes the compounding guilt of lying on the couch.  "Get up, get out, get busy, get moving," it screams.  And you can't.  You. Can't. Move. Because for the last 6 weeks since Ch

I grew up in a family of seven, five kids and two loving parents. But I also had a large extended family of grandparents, countless cousins, and aunts and uncles. We had our share of heartaches like any family. I remember books lying around with titles like, When Bad Things Happen to Good People and I'm OK, You're OK and If Life's a Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing in the Pits? Our kitchen table was a constant host to not just family, but also friends of my mother, who shared stories of joy, pain, and conflict about all of life's ups and downs. As she said, "My teapot is always on", and the back door was always open, literally. Friends would gather to lend an ear, share worries, or offer support. My brother was the frequent topic of conversation, sad conversations about his health and questions about his recovery from the next round of treatments and surgery. I can remember images from when I was very young of my mother crying in a teacup. Yet wheneve