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A Day of Rest

By Maggie Turner


December 26, 1999

A Day of Rest

We finally left our food and our leisure long enough to go for a walk this evening. It is snowing, very cold, and very windy. We were dressed in our parkas, heavy boots, hats, and mitts and did not suffer at all from the cold. It was good to out in the fresh air; it was good to arrive home to a warm house.

The torn remains of wrapping paper, boxes, odd bits of plastic and paper packing have been gathered for disposal or recycling. We have consumed most of the leftover turkey, Christmas Cake, pie, and pudding. We will rest from our festivities and gather strength; the New Year celebration will be upon us soon.

"The Teenager" has returned home with a bad cold. We have given her hot lemon and honey and insisted that she wear a heavy sweater and slippers. She seems happy with all the fussing. Just now, she has come into the living room to say, "I've got cancer and I'm going to die." She seemsquite annoyed. She has a small lump behind her left ear and it frightens her. We feel the bump. We tell her that it is probably a harmless swelling; that this can occur from time to time; that it does not usually mean cancer. She is not convinced. She turns on the computer and her troubles are forgotten. I know that if the bump has not gone away she will bring it to my attention again.

Steeped in contentment today, my fingers barely move across the keyboard. I was not planning on writing today; visiting other journals was inspiring and I could not resist joining in.


 

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