A few years ago Iain built a set of shelves for me in the living room.  One part can be viewed from all over the room and that is where I keep my very special books; the old, hardbound copies and collectors editions that set my heart fluttering.  I planned it this way because I knew that getting to see those books every day would bring me joy.  This morning I immediately spotted a missing book and knew that Elijah must have taken it to work.  I’m not sure how long Steve had to witness me staring wide eyed and sputtering.  “But, but, but…these are *special*, handle very carefully books, not throw in a bag and bop around town with them books.”  Really, I can’t even begin to tell you how long it took me to move on from the somewhat horrified, “But, but, but…” in my head.  I don’t think I heard a word that anyone said all morning.

Later in the day that boy of mine posted a little video saying something along the lines of, “Sure I hate my job, but at least on my lunch break I can kick back with some Brontë and a spot of tea.”  And there he was, in his auto body parts uniform with a travel mug and my book.  And here was I, smitten and amused, because he is *so* my child.  He even insists on using the cursive font, just like I do, even though he must realize that most of his contemporaries probably can’t even read it.  When he got home I didn’t say anything about the book, I just kissed the top of his head.

Sera had a major disappointment this morning and refused to be consoled.  We finally ended up watching the first part of Anne of Green Gables; the 1985 one with Megan Follows.  Mairi baked lemon bars.  Even with such a pleasant diversion I had to work really hard at not feeling anxious about my day being turned on it’s head.


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