It's Christmas Eve on a hilltop in rural north Georgia and I'm standing under the moon listening to carolers in a hay-wagon. It's about 20 degrees, dogs and kids are squealing and running underfoot, the horse is eating the hay off the hay-wagon, the caroler's props and Tupperware drums are constantly being readjusted, the sheet music keeps flapping in and out of the flashlight's beam and a dog to my right was growling loudly along with the singers. I turn to pat him. Him turns out to be someone's toddler.
It was a delightful chaos, as were the thoughts racing around in my head. Mia and I had just signed on to be one of twenty teams going on an around-the-world-a-thon to raise money for charity. I was about to turn fifty-one and wanted to start the second half of my life off with a bang. I also wanted to take an adventure of a different kind with my daughter, one that would be a little more like heaven and a lot less like the hell we chronicled. It took me about three minutes after being accepted into the competition to start obsessing over how to study sixty countries, figure out what to pack, whether or not I need shots for yellow fever and Japanese encephalitis, etc., etc., etc.
Which, of course, meant that I was neither in calm contemplation of the upcoming Global Scavenger Hunt, nor fully present at the holiday merry-making. Until I noticed little Fifi standing in front of my face, looking for all the world like a sturdy little honey-baked ham on legs. She was as serene and present as the moon, a mighty little guru in her simply there-ness.
Yesterday's moment:
1) Flying through Sunday Times.
2) Can't believe that Brittney Spears has made it to an Op Ed headline. What about Iraq? Global warming? The election? Must Brittney be everywhere?
3) Read the first paragraph, just to see what about Brittney warrants an Op Ed.
4) Hmm. That girl sounds like Mia, I must send this to Claire.
5) Check byline. IT IS MIA. It's Mia on the Op Ed page of the Sunday New York Times, making a case for changes to California law.
Congratulations -- there's no other reason I can imagine that Brittney belongs on those pages.
Posted by: Alanna | February 11, 2008 at 05:47 AM