the mud

It's an atypical Saturday.   There is nothing on my to-do list, technically.  No place I have to be right now, no time crunch.  Or at least that's what I told myself yesterday and told my husband last night when we sat down to figure out our weekend.  And yet, it is 3:00 pm and it's the first time I sat down since 9:00 this morning.  I took one kid to the eye doctor, ran to the pharmacy, took clothes over to the clothing drive, made a return at target (ours really does have a little t), picked up a couple groceries, got gas, and returned a book to the library.  That was my nothing day.  And that doesn't include what I did at home, like cleaning the kitchen, doing the laundry, and packing for our trip tomorrow to take Jay back to school.  But that's what constitutes Nothing these days.  There were no baseball games, no crew regattas, or plays, or cross country meets, no major purchases to make, (next week we have to buy a storm door).  No parties to host, nothing to

Welcome back, welcome home, welcome in, you're welcome! Welcome, welcome, welcome.  Every September I put these words all over my classroom- on the door, in the halls, on their desks.  It has a ring to it: Welcome back.  Jay is home from college for fall break and of course we all say Welcome Home .  It has such meaning now that he is living somewhere else most of the year.  It's not something we say to just anyone, it is reserved for special people coming back to a special place. I recently opened a meditation entitled, "Welcome".  I wasn't sure what to expect, but what happened was definitely not something I expected.  I just thought it was some ordinary talk about getting back to what you loved maybe, or going back to a place like home.  Not at all.  The speaker invited you to think of the last time someone made you feel welcome, with a hug, or a greeting, or an offer of a cup of tea.  She said to think of the last time someone gave you that big warm welcoming