“It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre,
I'm good this morning, already a little overwhelmed by the thought that I'm not going to have a minute to myself for a week with the granddaughter here, but it will be worth it. I've worked really hard to make this place, our cabin, a place of special memories for the grandkids-both of my grandmothers died before I was 4 but I was lucky to have an aunt who didn't have any children who filled that role. My granddaughter has already tried to cram every one of our "routines" into her first day here. We've hiked, thrown rocks in the creek, gone to our secret place, cut out paper dolls, dragged out every toy even the ones she doesn't play with, made a tent, visited the statue of Mary on the other bank several times to touch her and get our power shot, zing-zing, had a tea party...Yes, I'm exhausted and I've created a monster.