I somehow wound up in a conversation a few days ago about when in our lives do we find a moment of peace and quiet. I have to confess that I couldn’t come up with anything. My first instinct was to say when I am running, but I often listen to music, which we had specifically said didn’t count. We decided that Music is a different kind of moment than quiet.
Then comes this morning. I am unable to go running today because I pulled a muscle in my calf yesterday about a mile in to my run so I find myself puttering around the house for a while. I eat some breakfast and I eventually settle down into the living room to read. Even though most of the family is up (Green Girl is still recovering from the Friday night sleepover with her friend), I realize it is very peaceful and quiet. The Teacher is grading papers in the office and the little ones are downstairs watching Saturday morning cartoons even though it is Sunday – isn’t Tivo great? They probably watch a little too much of those, but who am I to fault them for what I look back on as a great time. A big bowl of sugary cereal and mindless entertainment usually starting at about 6:30 and going until the lame infomercials started coming on around 10:30 or 11. Of course on particularly slothful days I would just stay put and learn about the wonders of the Ginzu knife or Ron Popeil’s Veg-o-Matic.
The book I am reading, My Old Man and the Sea fit in quite well with my peaceful morning. It’s a book I’ve been thinking about since I chose the clipper ship as my profile icon. I read it over ten years ago and it made me decide I wanted to learn to sail. An ambition I still maintain.
I hear various stirrings and while I am typing this the Teacher has come in to remind that we all promised to clean the basement today as a family so I think my quiet time is over for now, but it should hold me at least for today.