On a different, lighter note...one way I've been coping with all of this recent stress is by getting my hands dirty, either by making something or digging in the dirt.  I planted 35 gladiola bulbs today around a dead tree stump in our front yard.  I have to say that whenever I plant something in the yard, in my head, I'm not actually in my yard.  I'm somewhere else...like a giant estate in Great Britain, and I am surrounded by acres and acres of wild sweetness and gorgeous blooms.  It's all in how you choose to see something.  The reality is I have a few blooms that are interspersed with weeds, but sometimes reality is overrated.

The problem with gardening is that now, when I go outside and bring the shovel, my kids (namely, the two younger ones), think that we're digging for fossils.  It's because last summer, I dug a giant pit in the back yard and we actually found one or two really cool ones.  So now they think we can find them every time.  I think there is still also a geology degree in my future.  You cannot stop dreaming, dear readers...if it's on your bucket list, you should make plans to do it.

The other thing I "made" was that I repaired my piano.  After going through four kids who banged and banged on it, it was in sad shape.  There were three or four black keys that were missing.  But, did you know that you can order those on amazon.com?  You glue them on with PVC glue.  I also had to open the thing up and pull out some odds and ends: a hot wheel car.  And also, a grade school paper from my son who is now 15.  Anyhow, I had to open that thing up and realign the hammers.  The only one I cannot fix is that darn B flat key.  And the entire thing needs to be tuned.  It doesn't matter though.   Nothing can match how I felt when I sat down for the first time in years and started playing some church hymns and "Fur Elise" and excerpts from "The Piano".