My kitchen is a mess this morning. Mike left for Philly yesterday afternoon at one o'clock. Since then I've not put one dish in the dishwasher or even wiped the counters. (And, yes, the dishwasher is empty.) I'll clean it up later, but for now I kinda like it.
If you want teenagers to love you, just let them find out you don't make your teens clean their rooms. I remember once when the youth group kids were over. Suddenly there was a crowd outside Robert's open bedroom door. Whispers filled the hall. Wide-eyed, one girl looked back at me and asked in awe, "Don't you make him clean his room?"
"No, not really. As long as there are no dirty dishes or food and he's functioning well, I really don't care what it looks like." Suddenly there were several requests for me to talk to their parents.
In my backyard I have a thicket. Yeah, like in Bambi. Celestine Sibley, Atlanta icon of writing and gardening, said she loved having a place in her yard to try different plants, throw weeds and clippings, and to let the weeds run wild. And, if you call it a thicket, she added, it sounds like it's part of your landscaping, when in reality it's just a big ol' mess.
I know that for some of you right now, your skin is crawling. Others are grinning and nodding. Don't know why I wrote this today, there's not really a point, or a learning moment and it's certainly not beautiful or poignant.
But it's the truth, and that's not bad for a Monday morning.