Pulling into the driveway after Yet Another Long Day at work, I caught a glimpse of the moon making its appearance for the evening over Queens Creek. After grabbing all the grocery bags from the car, trudging up the steps and throwing everything on the kitchen counter, I dashed into the back yard with my camera for just a minute; and for just a minute I was able to ignore the
Daughter, busy doing homework after basketball practice, was starving; the dog needed this; the cat needed that. The dirty dishes stacked high in the kitchen sink were talking about me--and snickering-- behind my back. Even the groceries were complaining, loudly, that I was too slow and wasn't putting them away fast enough.
Or so it seemed.
In the midst of the perceived chaos at home after a day of actual chaos at work*, I was grateful for the minute I had with the moon in the back yard with my camera.
*Like this moon over Queens Creek after work, there was one very bright spot in my day at work. A friend surprised me by delivering a home-cooked lunch of mashed potatoes and roast beef to my office. Given that all I'd brought to eat was a handful of grapes, which I'd choked down by 10 a.m., and also given that I love mashed potatoes so much I was called Potato Woman in college, this surprise made all the day's stresses seem immaterial.
Because, really, in the presence of homemade mashed potatoes made from homegrown potatoes, everything else--including chaos--must be secondary.
I'm pretty sure that's one of the Laws of Nature. If not, I hereby nominate it to be one.