[I began to write this post a couple of weeks ago on August 16th. For the sake of time and simplicity, I will not change its beginning to make the point that now it has been two weeks since this all took place.]
Yesterday, as I pondered some of the events of my past week, I began to see something and to learn what it meant.
I had all last week to myself at home. My husband and two of my children went on vacation to visit family. I did not go with them because we have four dogs and to try to find someone to care for them is such a hassle, especially now that my oldest one is blind. Four weeks ago, I went on a vacation with my daughter to visit my family for a couple of weeks, and last week, my husband took one of our sons and our daughter to visit his family. A dear friend came to visit me for the first weekend, and we had a fantastic time together. After her departure on Sunday, I had the house pretty much all to myself for the rest of the week. I had made up my mind that I was going to accomplish a great many things. My plans were to catch up in areas or responsibility where I was behind and also immerse myself in some reading, studying, and writing (three of my favorite things to do). Those were my goals. Some were accomplished, and some were not.