TWO DAYS AWAY

My single moment of silence, a solitary calm that has been missing all day. 10:54 p.m. and the cats have just discovered that the Christmas tree in the office is literally covered in cat toys. They also know instinctively that I am slow to get up from behind the desk to chase them with the water bottle - although we all seem to enjoy the game.

Sam sleeps on the couch in the living room - heater on high, fuzzy blanket pulled close. Rachael has retired early as usual, Abby is reading maybe in her room, Daddy is exhausted and in bed. The dogs sleep, the birds sleep, the cats chase up and down the stairs. The clock ticks. My unfinished montage of college posters sits, glue drying, beside me. If I can fix all the turned up edges and tears and glue bumps, it will be a cool timeline of multi-textured strips. One hundred lines long to symbolize a person's life. Visual inspiration for the LHS Post-Grad room. A constantly nagging nightmare in my life of bad timing and procrastination. Why would I start a complicated art project at the busiest time of the year?

A crash of branches, a tinkling of ornaments. Cats race, water flies - four quick chases, all in the span of a minute. I've gotten up four times, my motivation for tree-rescue is flagging.

11:11 - Grandma Pat time. A nudge from her, I'm sure she would enjoy the cat circus going on now.

Tomorrow will be a hang on and ride the waves type of day. Washing machine peed all over the laundry room floor this afternoon, surely some repairman will have two hours for us tomorrow, (undoubtedly at some inconvenient time). Not one present is wrapped, not one cookie baked, not one party food planned. Christmas never varies, the circumstances always mutate

so every spare moment is full to bursting.