nablopomo indecision

Now that I'm in the swing of daily blogging (and even Frank is getting used to it) I'm having a little trouble discriminating between what is blog worthy and what is not. For instance, today I would like to tell you about the letter I got from the would-be politician outlining her three-typed-pages response to my letter asking for her take on world poverty and the environment.

But I'd also like to share how moved I am by my friend who is a rough, rough diamond. Her clothes aren't always clean, she comes from the wrong side of the tracks, and she's as rough as guts. On the surface she might not strike you as a particularly good parent - sometimes she yells at her kids in public, they are most often unruly and uncontrolled, course language flows from all their mouths and they don't behave appropriately in church (meaning they fail to follow our bland social norms). But my goodness, her heart... her heart is all mellow softness and kindness. And now, when someone has done wrong by her children and she is struggling with the devastation, her mother heart is coming to the fore. As we talked tonight her sentences were punctuated with love, concern, righteous anger, sadness, longing and faith. She peeled back the exterior shell to reveal fierce tenderness and a determination to help her children through this time.

But it's been a long, hard week and I don't feel too much like writing such a moving post. So maybe I'll tell you about the episode of 'House' I watched tonight (I've never seen it before) and how I sometimes wish we could all talk to our patients like that. And that if I have a thing for any actor it just might be for Hugh Laurie. (He is hilarious. And the contrast of his role in Sense and Sensibility with that of his film wife makes the movie for me!)

But that's a bit trite I suppose. So I'll settle for telling you about Frank and his current cold. He caught it last weekend at camp and has been coughing and complaining since. Complaining nicely I might add. But he does make me laugh! This morning I woke up to find him in bed beside me wearing his puffer jacket - apparently he decided (in the middle of the night) that his cough is worse when his neck is cold. Tonight he has swathed his neck in a scarf and has resorted to hand signals in an effort to rest his poor sore throat. I love my Frankie, but he's such a boy when he's sick! (I ran this past him just in case and he... silently gave it the thumbs up)