Thursday: two daffodils pop up every January, even last January, amid a patch of feral ivy in the garden. They’re always first out. I don’t know who they are or how they got there, but I like them.
Friday: we leave for school in the usual whirlwind of book bags and coats. The children are with their dad this weekend, and when I get back and appraise the storm damage to the kitchen table — The Complete Calvin and Hobbes Vol. III, pink and silver sparkly masking tape that doesn’t stick and spontaneously unravels, a fairy in the bowl of grapes and an incredibly small cheese grater from a Christmas cracker — there are notes guiding the creation of made-up languages (boy) and inappropriately psychedelic thank-you card designs with spirals and eyes (girl). It’s a chance to marvel at them without missing the madness too much. At the Co-op, I picked up a bottle of wine and a bar of chocolate for supper.