I'm a bit slow getting started this morning: perhaps the result of vivid dreams and sinus congestion. Spring allergies are in full swing . . . not that I regret even one pollen spore.
The good news in this household: Paul is finally a licensed driver! We are all happy and relieved. There's been a certain comedy to his consistent lateness in accomplishing standard milestones. He crawled late, he walked late, he didn't ride a bike till he was in mid-elementary school, and he avoided driving until this year, when he calmly learned in about three weeks and passed his test on the first try. That's exactly how he rode his bike too: wouldn't get on it, wouldn't get on it, then suddenly rode it perfectly. The only reason he decided to walk was because he had to crawl through a patch of mud to get to where the other kids were playing, and he wasn't in the mood for mud that day.
I'm still waiting for the editing project to return to me, so I guess I'll find something or other to fill the day: maybe a trip to the Goodwill, maybe some writing . . . everything depends on interruption levels. These days I can't set my heart on anything that thrives on solitude. So I set my heart on surprise conversations and jokes and bird sightings and flowers.