Life inside the bubble

I got my son into watching The West Wing over the holidays and now he's off to the races with the series, on season three already. He said, "This is the first time I've glimpsed why anyone might want to work in politics," he said. "It never made any sense before." Of course, we're so far away from that vision of political life now, but it's still a comfort watch, to imagine a world in which people serve with an actual desire to make others’ lives better. My boy is such a good son. He came with me to all my pre-surgery screenings this week, drove me there and back, sat in with me on the PT recovery planning meeting, helped me order the stuff I'm going to need, and has generally made me feel very taken care of. Yes, he can be a bit bossy, but we do understand it's his love language.

The little one is back in Dallas with her parents, and I miss her little face, her nonstop chatter, her busyness and rich imagination. She said to her grandma, "Let's go and play in my room," and I love that she has identified a room on our apartment as being her room. It is where she sleeps when she is here, so it stands to reason, after all.

Here's something else I love: How my daughter and her cousins love and enjoy each other. How when Harper's mom is in town, they all get together and paint the town, young women together having a supremely grand time. I told them send me pictures so I could relive my youth vicariously, and they indulged me. The next day, they lay on beds and couches all over my house, somewhat hung over, but all in agreement that the time they had was worth it. It certainly looks like it was!

My husband is upstate today, working with a small natural history musuem, teaching its science associates and student volunteers updated best practices for preserving its ichthyology collection. While he was there the snow started to come down. He's making his way home now through the still falling snow. I'm just sitting here, The West Wing playing on Netflix as I get ready to pick out end pieces for a puzzle my daughter gave me for Christmas and wait for the sound of his key in the door. Here's what it looks like right now outside my window.

And here's the very cool puzzle I'm about to lose myself in. Puzzles are my mediatation.

One more, this is me one week before my bionic hip. I look so optimistic, like I'm saying, okay fam, here we go.