I live a very quiet little life, for the most part. We are homeschoolers - we have no real schedule. We do what we want, when we want to. I have few obligations, generally, which means I can usually take life pretty easy.
So when weeks like this come along, I don't know quite how to deal with them, and I get overwhelmed a little too easily. My little brother's graduation is today, with a dinner for him tonight. Tomorrow, the first of Andrew's family begins arriving for his sister's wedding on Sunday. Thursday, our five house guests will arrive. I still have table runners to make for the reception (she just gave me the fabric a couple of days ago, I'm not a slacker, I swear!) and I need to get this house clean enough to present to family members I've never met.
The idea of meeting more of his family, and other friends and such, is terrifying to me. I mean, people in general scare me, but these ones are related. I just hope they don't hate me.
So yeah, I'm a little stressed out. PMS doesn't help, of course. :o) I'll survive though, I'm sure of it!
Mother's Day weekend was spent camping with some friends. Andrew was hunting in the mornings and our friends left a day early, so I spent Mother's Day morning making a yummy breakfast for the girls and I and watching them play outside. They didn't wake up until about 9:00, so I sat for an hour watching the sun come up over the mountains, reading, and enjoying the peace and quiet. It was lovely.
I read a book called "Outlasting the Trail" this past week, by Mary O'Brien. Historical fiction based on the accounts of a real woman. Fascinating book. The whole thing talks about all of these horrible things that occur throughout their trip from the East to California in a covered wagon. This poor woman had it far worse than most - between a maniacal husband, illness, death of their horses, etc. it was a horrid journey and a miracle they made it alive to California. Then at the end of the book, everything is all happy and she's set up her home and they're all doing well... and after the end of the book, the author tells you the rest of the story as well as they can be interpreted from letters and journals. The woman dies shortly after finally getting settled, and all but one of her five children die too.
All of that... all that work, fear, and the elation of having finally made it.... and she dies.
It sparks an interesting string of thoughts in my head, the concept of life and death so blatant in her story - nothing I could ever put words to. I love, and will always love the stories of the pioneer women... each woman alone quite insignificant but as a whole, truly shaping our world today. It's an interesting perspective on the meaning of life for me... but I'm weird like that. :o)
I better end here - I have floors to clean. Sorry for lack of anything of much interest to talk about!