Just because the day begins with burnt (seriously burnt, billowing thick clouds of smoke when you open the oven door kinda burnt) cinnamon toast, doesn’t mean it will be awful.  It’s not any sort of omen.  Unless, that is, you take it as an omen predicting the table of firemen just hours later at the coffee shop by Willow’s school where I stop in for a soy latte when I can.

This morning the fog was low to the ground, blurring the curbs (I mistyped and put burbs, which is also quite accurate) and washing out the treetops.   I got onto the highway, coffee and music already making me feel happy, and then I came to this place where the hills fold into each other, like when you interlace your fingers up to the knuckles.  The fog had settled into the miniature valleys, and there was this giant oak tree perfectly illuminated by the sun.  I swear that there was fog surrounding the tree, but the branches were in the clear.  Just like a close up shot of a flower where the background is all pebbly and blurred.  It was ridiculously pretty, perfectly lit, made my breath catch.  If I had my camera, I probably would have made a mess of my morning trying to stop somehow for a picture. 

Not much further, the fog was gone entirely, and the sky was so blue that any crystalline azure sky cliche you can dream up was actually a perfect description.  It made me feel good.  I sang along with my iPod all the rest of the way to work, even when I got off the highway and the exit ramp led straight back into the clouds. 

I had lunch with one of my favoritest people, and had flowers sent to me (for no reason, which is the best reason, except this might be the only time I’ve had flowers sent to me when I wasn’t really sick or really right and so maybe I don’t have another point of reference to base that on, but I still maintain that it’s the best reason) by the lovely also-favoritest Jenny *note to self: complain to Jenny more often!

Tonight Willow and I went to see her big sister and brothers perform in the school play.  It was such fun — Lex was Aladdin, Nathan a guard, and Soph a thief.  They had a fabulous time and delighted in all the flowers they came home with.  Between the flowers from Jenny, Willow picking a bouquet at Trader Joe’s the other day, and the seven or so bunches of flowers the kids came home with, my kitchen looks like a funeral home springtime! 

Soph meticulously picked all her eye make up off while getting ready for bed, and I don’t like how much she adored the black eyeliner.  She’s super dramatic and will make an excellent goth someday.  I, myself, carried a KISS lunchbox in first grade (because they didn’t sell Bauhaus ones?), and still favor black clothes, so I’m sort of interested to see what sort of ways she expresses herself fashion-wise.  And I totally don’t care if she wants to wear makeup at a youngish age, even.  But the fact that she said that this was the prettiest she’d ever looked got my back up. 

I’m sitting right up next to the fireplace, duraflame log keeping me warm and lighting the keyboard.  The girls are asleep on the couch.  I read a page from Matilda and they were snoring.  Good thing, since my voice is 80% gone now (yes, I measured).  Tomorrow I think we’ll hit some thrift stores in search of cheap snow clothes for our trip in two weeks!  My children have never seen or experienced snow and I decided that it is time to fix that.  We generally don’t go anywhere, unless it’s to visit family, so this is doubly anticipated.  My brother and his wife are going to meet up with us for a couple of days of ski and snowboard lessons, snow fort and snow person creating and snowball fights.  I’m sort of a stiff drink and a book in the lounge by the fire kinda girl, but I will try and find some cheap snow gear and take a cold one for the team.  I will probably bring a hip flask.  I consider it anti-freeze.  That’s O.K. when you’re on vacation.  Right?