Dear Monday: please stop kicking my ass, I just got up, mmmkay?
Let’s start the week off with FANTASTIC news! The Evil for Crestline Auction is up over $2500 in pledges! And that’s before the second wave of auction offerings! All proceeds will go to benefit the Little Prince’s school, which burned down a week ago. I am completely blown away by the generosity of both those bidding AND those who donated, and those from the ELEW who put the whole thing together. You guys are amazing. Thank you so much.
The Little Prince is settling into his new classroom. It helps a lot that he has familiar faces around him–the district moved heaven and earth to keep whole classes with their teachers, and grades together in the same school. The teachers have been working overtime to organize the classrooms, and there’s been such an outpouring of support, it’s amazing. The Prince did bread down in tears–part of the grieving process–this weekend. He sits on things for a while before they work themselves out, poor kidling. It’s hard to hold your sobbing child and not be able to fix everything. I think it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. *sigh*
This weekend the kids and I took it really easy, since last week was so horrorshow. (New schedules, new classroom, organizing supplies and volunteering…) I did manage to get bookcases put together and ALL my books unpacked. (I plan on maybe shooting some grainy cell phone video of it today. Won’t that be hilarious?) My back is aching and unhappy, but the rest of me is alight with delight. I hadn’t realized how much it bothered me to have my hoard still in boxes. Handling every book yesterday, sorting and alphabetizing, soothed me like nothing else can.
The kernel of my library is the few books that survived my parents’ depredations, lo those many years ago. Then there’s the few of those and others that survived my first marriage. After that I was never in the position of having to chew my own limbs off to leave a place again, thank the gods, and I’ve been building my collection ever since. The scent of paper and ink and binding soothes me, and being able to touch the books–each one a different world that doesn’t judge, or rage, or hit me–makes me feel much more secure. I finally feel like this house might possibly be home, like there’s a root tendril or two driven in. And the kids are happy to see the familiar spines and bindings too. It’s like we’re really here permanently, and it only took six months for me to unpack the bulk of the books. *whistles innocently*
So Monday is upon us again, and I’m going to kick its ass right back. *rolls up sleeves* I’m ready.