It almost goes without saying that the days of yesteryear seemed so much less stressful and rude and judgmental and on steroids than the days of now. Pressures certainly existed back then. Rude and judging have always been around; but maybe we took heed to follow elderly advice "if you can't say something nice, don't say it at all."
I don't mind raking. In fact, I rather enjoy it, as fall is my favorite time of year and doing yard work gives me a fresh-air break from parenting. But after a recent weekend of the blister-forming repetitive chore, I realized raking is pretty much exactly like parenting. Really. By Sunday evening I felt the urge to read the leaves a night-night book and ask if they'd brushed their teeth. Don't believe me?
Last week I had just finished re-landscaping my backyard when, within 24 hours, a new direction regarding the path of Hurricane Hermine became evident. In that moment I had an awareness of how absolutely powerless I felt in the immensity of the pending storm; my thoughts were busy painting a grim 3-D picture of my newly planted palm trees floating out to sea.