The Best Laid Plans

I had a screed all prepared in my head.  I ranted and raved and crafted an exquisite description of my feelings about members of Congress who supported sedition.

Then, I woke up to a steady downpour, actual raindrops perking up my cacti and the succulents who have been deprived of their usual, albeit meager, yearly ration of water.  Another post developed, about the possibilities when evil is washed away, about how, if you're adaptable, you can get by with just a little bit of love and attention.

For a brief moment, I toyed with writing about sports, because TBG has been consumed with the NFL all day.... but I had a hard time remembering what team's laundry Tom Brady was wearing and I figured that if I couldn't muster enough enthusiasm to follow it even that closely then I shouldn't burden you with half formed thoughts.

I'm reading the unready books on my shelves, first editions acquired through a Book Passage promotion the summer we left Marin.  They've sat, unloved and unopened, until this weekend when the need to hold a physical book in my hands was thwarted by the fact that the library is closed on the weekends during Pandemica; my reserves will have to wait until Monday.  I thought about discussing the diaspora, of being the other, of making your own place in a foreign land..... that one I might come back to.

But yesterday and today FlapJilly usurped my writing time.  She and her friends did jigsaw puzzles on-line, and she thought that Gramma might like to do it, too.  So, for several hours over the past two days, my granddaughter and I have complimented one another on our genius, on our perspicacity, on our ability to see patterns the other had missed.  

We've danced in celebration as we finish, and taken 10 deep breaths to get focused when the task seemed too much to bear.  We've created 24 and 45 and 54 (YES, I know my numbers, Mom!) and 60 piece unicorns and castles and The Dolomites, horses and gummy worms and covered bridges.  

Her parents moved a china cabinet to the basement while her brother slept and we amused one another. Little Cuter was needed to select and share the puzzle itself, but, except for her brief interjections, it was Grams (I seem to have been given a nickname to my nickname) and FJ, chillin' on the weekend.

I really did plan for meaningful prose to start your week.  

I'm not sorry at all that events intervened.  I've been smiling. A lot.