This place is a . . . zoo!

Hello.
It's me.
It's  been a while.
Not months, or anything like that.
But a while (as a friend pointed out last night, ten days!! :)
We've been quite busy this week -- this Spring Break week.
Not at the beach.
Or hiking in the mountains.
Nope.
We've been trying to keep our house clean for potential buyers.
And we've been renovating my mom's house.
Priming, painting, picking out appliances and flooring and counter-tops, replacing hardware and hinges.
The whole enchilada!
It is a chore.
When this is over, I may never want to paint another thing again in my whole life! I've spent more of this break so far covered in paint than not.
But everytime I am there, I can see what it will soon be.
I smile.
It will be quite nice.
I know we are doing the right thing.
And I smile again.
Peace is a wonderful thing. It helps you live in the chaos of a moment with the promise of contentment and rest and beauty that it paints before your weary eyes. It provides a deep sense of being in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.
And so, we have been painting cabinets and walls and  . . . everything, really. 
But it hasn't been all work.
Tuesday, Joe and the boys and I went to the zoo!
This is what we saw:

The boys had a great time, and so did Joe and I. Daniel was wide-eyed with amazement at seeing animals he loves and has only seen in books and on t.v. right there, large and real, in front of him.
He especially loved the Rhinos!
Josiah liked the cheetah the best, even though we only got to watch him sunning himself. He did no great feats of speed for us who looked on that day.
Isaac liked the rain-forest the best. He liked the piranhas and little monkeys that live in that habitat.
I think that was my favorite too.
There was a mama sloth hanging right above our heads when we first walked into the rain-forest! She couldn't have cared less about us, but I sure was impressed by her . . . calm and impassive, meditating on the green leaves she sat staring at. If ever there was a zen-like animal, the sloth is it. Oh how I envy the slow calculated intentions of her movements and the serene glaze in her eye. Never mind that she carries the name of one of the seven deadly sins! Once in a while, I'd like to step out of this break-neck speed of life and sit like a sloth.
I liked hearing the lion roar, also. His booming voice calling from his den, thundering and echoing. It sent chills up and down my spine. It made me remember every time I ever read Narnia.
Daniel wanted to take the train ride around the zoo, and so we did. He was so excited!
I'm so glad we took a day to be together, to marvel at the animals and to have fun!
Before leaving, Josiah picked out a stuffed cheetah to bring home. Joe selected a baby jaguar for Daniel, who was sleeping soundly by then, and Isaac . . . well, Isaac is getting older, and just didn't see anything in the gift shop that struck his fancy.
It made me a little sad. It was so . . . grown-up of him.
Have I mentioned that watching my kids grow up is a beautifully painful thing?
It is.
Daniel has said so many funny, cute things . . . I can hardly keep up with it all.
Yesterday, he walked out of the house with this hat on, and said (in his gruffest voice, of course) "Hey! We're cowboys here!"

As if we didn't know!
The other day he told me, "You need to use your magination, mom!" when I said I didn't know how to do something.
Weather wise, there hasn't been a truly nice, warm, sunny day this whole break! Not one. Not yet. But I'm holding out hope. I'm trying not to have cynical thoughts about how stunningly gorgeous it will probably be on Monday.
We did not celebrate St. Patty's Day yesterday (although I did paint my soon-to-be- laundry room a lovely shade of green -- does that count?) so I will make corned beef and cabbage for family dinner tonight, and I will bake some warm, comforting Irish soda bread when I am done posting this.
St. Patty's day --  you know who that makes me think of.
My dad.
*Sigh* I miss you, dad.
The other day, I went into the garage for a hammer. I have never been in there messing with dad's tools. I opened one door to a cabinet where he had some stuff, and the scent of him tumbled out and stumbled into me, clumsily. I did not expect to find my dad there, I'm not sure why. It is where he spent a lot of time. I should have known . . . I took a deep breath, and cried my eyes out. Really. I stood in front of the tool cabinet and cried like I have not cried in a long time. And I said out loud, "Oh dad. I miss you."
I ran my hand over everything.
I couldn't see very well, my eyes were tear-blurred. I wouldn't have recognized much anyway. I'm not exactly tool savvy.
I closed my eyes and I could see him standing there, in his blue work pants and blue tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. His hair was always slightly mussed when he was working on things. But his smile . . . his smile was the same no matter what he was doing.
Gosh dang, I miss that smile.
No painting today, I think.
We'll hit it hard tomorrow and this weekend, but today, I am home with my own little cubs.
I will bake, and fill our home with sweet smells.
I think we will take a trip to the library before going to Gramp's tonight.
This break is flying by.
And just now, the sun is trying to break through . . .
I want to make the most of it.