All the daffodils are blooming now, even my special one that I planted first in October. And the sun has even been out, so they can lift their heads happily to the sky (all except that first one, which not only did a face plant into the weeds. It also got devoured by a slug).
I have officially begun packing. Joseph commented on the boxes that I brought home last week. I forget what his comment was, but it was something along the lines of “don’t start packing already, Mom. We aren’t moving for months.” So I was feeling a little guilty. Until I did some calculations in my head. There are about 14 weeks of school until we move. If I brought three boxes home from work each week, that’s only 42 boxes. We’ll need more than that. We have at least 25 boxes worth of books. And I can pack books into boxes and put the box right back on the shelf.
So I started with kids books last week, ones that the boys don’t look at often but we aren’t quite ready to give them away yet. And this weekend I’ll pack the foreign language reference books. Clearly marked, of course, in case Silas needs to look something up in French, German, Greek or Hebrew between now and June. By the time I get done with the books there won’t be much left to pack. Just kitchen stuff. We live simply. Except for the 35 boxes of books.
Joseph has a point, though. It’s still months before we move. Many, many days full of many, many things. Today is one of them, one little world within itself, to be lived and filled and made sense of. Not to be skipped over in anticipation of days to come. There only ever is one day to live. Today.