The boys needed haircuts this evening. Everyone gets haircuts before Christmas and Easter, at least anyone whose hair is looking like it needs trimmed. I got my haircut two months ago for the second time since covid. I originally asked her for two inches off and when she looked at it she said it really needed four in order to get back to the healthy parts. So I reluctantly agreed to the length, even though I knew that meant it was going to be too short for a while.

We had a nice visit with my in-laws this afternoon. I’ve been on a bit of a food planning kick. Last Saturday while thinking up a new weekly menu, I asked if they wanted to come over for Palm Sunday lunch. Holy Week has completely snuck up on me. I don’t know even know what really happened to Lent. Josh used to give his dad haircuts every so often after lunch. After his first chemo treatment he lost his hair, and it hasn’t been cut since it started falling out.

One of the boys wasn’t thrilled about his hair. He gets down and quiet whenever something is bothering him. I’ve been cutting their hair lately and it isn’t unusual for one or two to dislike it at first. They do the same thing when dad cuts it so I know it isn’t just me. Josh cuts his own hair and has done so for as long as I’ve known him. He used to let me cut it sometimes during the summer when we worked here. I occasionally still help him with the back if he asks.

“Monks have secrets worth knowing, and anyone who has ever been to a monastery knows that monks (who pray often and a lot) sustain themselves in prayer not through feeling, variety, or creativity, but through ritual, rhythm, and routine.”
~Ronald Rolheiser, Domestic Monastery~

I can already tell I’m going to love this book. I haven’t been reading much, it feels hard these days. My brain feels oversaturated and I don’t know if it’s just the tiredness of winter or something else, a worldly, phonely, malaise. They talk all the time about how our phones are destroying our attention spans and making it harder to read actual books. I’ve really never felt anything like that till now.

School probably is part of it. Any time sitting down feels like a betrayal of my duties, and yet, duty continues to call every day. I don’t mind it, I truly don’t, no matter how much I let it slip every so often that housework, clothes, meals remain an unending task. I walked around the upstairs this morning, noticing each of the rooms and thought, “It’s really not bad. The house isn’t that bad.” It really isn’t, it truly isn’t.

There were houses in town that suffered damage from the storm. Thankfully, from what we heard, no one was hurt. My sister texted this morning with pictures from her in-laws property. They live in a wooded acreage and there were downed trees everywhere, huge trees bent in half, fallen, or mangled. Thankfully too their home was not affected. My sister partial to trees–the oaks–wept when she saw them.

My back is doing better since the last time I mentioned it. I called the doctor on Monday and got a prescription for a muscle relaxer. I stayed home Monday night from class but by Wednesday evening felt well enough to go to the high school home ball game. Thursday I was up and walking around again and today could do normal modified house chores including getting the dining room extra-clean for company tomorrow.

One of the boys stayed home and helped me. The rest of the kids were with Dad for the camp work day. They had a small group this time, with the only other ones there being the maintenance man and one of my son’s school friends. But it was enough to get the cabins swept, the boats put out, and the main utility closet cleaned. We had lunch in the dining hall where blazed already a warm fire.