*M* is for Mystery

Have you ever driven by a thrift store and felt a tug to pull over, that something special may be waiting for you? It happens to me on occasion, and when it does, I listen to it, and many of those times I have come away with some little treasure. It was going to be my lucky day again! There sitting outside the store on an old table was *M*. My hands were all over it at once, opening the hinged lid, happily surprised to see the green faded velvet lining inside. On the top is a large *M*, inlaid in a lighter wood. One of the bottom corners of the letter is missing, along with a big chip on one edge, and lots of scratches on the top. The price tage read 50 cents. I found my mind wonderiing about *M* who s(he) was, and what they kept in that velvet lined box. I don't know what I'll do with it, but I knew it was coming home with me.

Today Heather, Jeff,and the grandkids arrive - I'm so excited!! I had big hopes about how the house would look, all clean and tidy, even my studio would be in order. Well, here it is, the day of, and the house still needs more cleaning and tidying, the living room sits half painted, the flower bed desperately needs weeding, - you get the picture. It's true, I have been working long hours on art projects and other comittments that are now complete. But it's also true that I have squandered time I have had these past two days, allowing myself to get... *distracted*. This is how it often goes; I'll start cleaning, then look out the window and notice the way the sun is falling so beautifully on the meadow, the shadows, the shimmering leaves, and what I'm doing feels totally unimportant as I grab my camera and head outside. Or, I decide it's such a beautiful day, that the dogs and I need to take a least 2 walks. Or, I get a compelling idea that *demands* my attention, so off to the studio I run. So now it's Friday, and many of the things on my "to do list" remain undone. The odd thing is, the older I get, the less these "housework failures" torment me, and that feels freeing. I'm going to give it my best shot today, see how much I can get done, and then make a pot of homemade soup; when they open the door, the smell will tell them we've been waiting for them, that we love them, that they are so special to us, and that they are *home*. (Did you know that good homemade soup is magic that way?)