Contentment

Ever have one of those days were things go like clockwork?

Today has been one of those days.  While the day started with a certain degree of anxiety over a lost library book and a minor amount of bustling in getting Shea packed up, it soon settled into a rhythm of things going my way. 

Instead of commuting straight to PCC to get the teaching underway, I drove out to Pacific in search of the lost library book.  I took the back country roads through Newberg, the low hum of the engine muffling OPB and the day cool but not cold.  I planned well enough to bring my wool coat and I found myself on campus at Pacific around 9:30.  The low level fog blanketed the lawns in a mist that soothed the senses and quieted the traffic on Main Street.  It's Winter 3 right now and so there are some students on campus but not many.  I wandered through campus with my mind drifting along. 

While I didn't find my library book, I decided to check in at the main office and see if there was anything waiting for me in my mailbox.  There were two desk copies of books for my graphic novel class waiting for me there.  Asterios Polyp, a gorgeous example of the graphic novel's potential, was waiting for me there and a copy of a textbook which the author had generously provided was stacked on top.  One book lost, two gained.

I made my way to PCC and settled into the calm routine of the work week immediately.  Both of my classes were alert and engaged, although quiet, a natural occurrence in the first week.  They seemed to take in what I had to say thoughtfully and they are already approaching me after class, always a good sign.

As I drove home, I picked up my comic books and drove on to my mother's house.  I helped her put away her Christmas decorations and move some furniture around, a small gesture, but one that helps me feel good about my day.  I don't often get to do enough for her, but today I helped in some small way. 

At home, Shea ate her dinner without argument.  She didn't turn her nose up at anything and Tracy and I marveled at the fact that dinner was over at 6:30.  This gave us a good two hours of play with her.  In a flash of memory, I checked Tracy's car for the library book.  Voila!  There it was.  Anxiety drained out of me. 

After we put Shea down, I watched a movie.  A whole movie and have now turned toward the blog for a bit of daily writing.  Tomorrow is going to be a good day.  Tomorrow is "You and Me" day.  Tomorrow is a day where I get Shea all to myself.  In preparation we have already collected quarters for the "rides" at the mall, the one place she wanted to go with me.  I'll put her on the coin-operated cars, watch her as she plays with the other children at the playground, and simply spend some time alone with her.

It will be the first day since the surgery that we have ventured out to such a public place, where she will be surrounded by other children.  She is terribly excited.   When I reminded her of this fact with a simple, "The quicker you go to bed, the quicker 'You and Me' day starts," she scrambled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and put her pajamas on. 

I love the fact that she cherishes our time together as much as I do right now.  I have much to look forward to tomorrow, not the least of which is a space of time to write while Shea is napping and a night with my wife where she doesn't have to wake early for work.  I'm anticipating the glass of wine with dinner, the snuggle on the couch, and, hopefully, the lazy winding turns of a conversation that doesn't have a time constraint or an "expiration" hour. 

Life is good today and I'm not going to miss the opportunity to appreciate it.  I am grateful to be right here, right now, a good day behind me and another on the horizon.