We didn't make it to church this Sunday. Its a family tradition. The Maine Wienerfest - we landed there accidentally 5 or 6 years ago and fell in love with the hundreds of dachshunds competing. The costume contest has always been our favorite, I mean who can resist a puppy princess - definitely not Avonlea (our six year old daughter). But this year, the race got my vote, hands down. Photo - pixaby.com Those precious doxens racing to the finish line. Their owners, treats in hand, calling out to their beloved pets, hoping they will run straight to them. The ginormous grins, giggles and cheering - all brought on by the pups' confusion as to which way to go. No one was looking at the disoriented dogs with even a hint of frustration. Not a single person had a scowl. Everyone delighted in their efforts. And when one of the adorable runners finally figured out which way to go and ran as fast as his little feet could carry him, we all jumped to our feet and cheered.
I make a grunting noise as I toss another lego into "toy jail". I step away and trip over one of the kids light sabers. Glancing over at the breakfast crumbs (we could seriously feed a family of refugees , not that I struggle with the idea of how much we waste or anything), I feel my eyes well up and think "I could use some of 'the force' about now. Trying to determine if I should pull the kids from their happy game of Zingo or tackle the breakfast fiasco on my own, I decide on the latter. What was my dear friend's quote, I ponder. Oh yeah, "a little and often". She was referring to home maintenance (along with other things). Gently, she was reminding me to stay on top of things rather than let them build into tougher jobs. "This isn't a little and often", I sarcastically mumble "this is 'a lot and always'." Seriously, if I'd simply pray every time I pick something off the floor, I might actually get a gras