In another miracle, I have completed four projects that, because of the hurricane, all ended up due at the same time. And aside from minor issues, like the snowstorm whistling outside our window, life suddenly seems very quiet and simple.
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When the kids were little, once a year or so I'd borrow It Could Always be Worse from the library. It's based on a Yiddish folk tale, and is about a peasant with six children whose too-small house is chaotic. So he goes to the rabbi, who asks, "Do you have any chickens" Well yes, he does. So the rabbi tells him to bring his chickens, ducks and geese into the house.
A couple of weeks later the poor peasant is going nuts, so he returns to the rabbi. This time the rabbi tells him to bring the goats and pigs into the house. After several more visits, in which the rabbi always tells the man to add more livestock or people to his house, the peasant is completely on the verge of a nervous breakdown. So the rabbi says, "Go home, and put all the animals outside, and get rid of all the people except your wife and children."
The peasant does this. And life seems utterly peaceful and manageable. Because, you know, it could always be worse.
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With the kids' play over, we suddenly have 8.5 hours a week of free time. Not only that, but soccer ends next week. That's another four-hour slot on Saturday, and a three-hour slot on Sunday. It's almost scary. Free time. If feels more than free -- it feels like winning the lotto!