My current upload of photos indicates why I am so worn out and tired of cleaning.  The crafty madness is only second to extreme skiing these days.  Even the two littlest have slithered there way into the mix of glitter, paint, and watery clay.  And while my heart glows with pride, my insides are in a consistent state of sighing.  This week, though filled with warmer temperatures, will surely be wet and muddy and well… messy.

Lucky for me I too have been enjoying the several feet of slushy snow outside before it melts away.  This morning I went for a ski that I imagined to be what the afterlife might be like.  The sun was streaming through the branches and I could literally taste spring on my lips.  The birds were calling from every direction as I entered a clearing, so I stopped and took off my skis, taking a deliberate and very rare, quiet moment to just- be- still.  No sounds to be heard except the chickadees and the avalanche of soft, wet snow falling off hemlocks.  And more importantly, none which needed attending to.  The actual sun was warming my chin and cheeks.  I could live off this moment all week, I knew it then and I still do now as I recall it.