Clean floors


Last night, just before dinner, I posted a photo of our farm at sunset with these words on Instagram:

"This day started rough, to say the least. I broke my only pair of glasses and then had myself a meltdown, worrying about all the reasons I have for worry.

But then a dear friend came for a visit, our kids played, we talked and ate chicken ginger soup. And just now the day ended like this. So I'm pretty sure everything will be okay.

It always will, don't you think?"


Ten minutes later I dropped our entire dinner – face down – onto the kitchen floor.


Some days are like that, aren't they? Where things feel perfectly aligned to go utterly wrong. Even as you try to correct your trajectory the pieces continue falling apart.

I share this not for sympathy about my glasses or commiseration about dinner-ala-floor, but to say simply this: we've all been there.

We're all a mess some days.

As for my day, I found it in me to be thankful that we just swept as we salvaged what dinner we could. (If my grandma were still alive she would have revoked my "good and fit mother card" right there.) And though I was all moping and apology, my family was all grace and love. Despite eating dinner off of the kitchen floor. I was grateful for that.


And then I did the only thing that made sense: I cleaned up my mess and I went to bed.

Because each new day is a fresh start, I think.


Today I head off for an eye exam and a new pair of glasses, thank goodness. Something I've needed for years and just not made a priority. (Self-employment might mean no-new-glasses-until-you-smash-the-old-pair, but it also means a flexible work schedule.)

And I'm starting this day better rested on account of the extra sleep and with some seriously clean floors.


See? Things did turn out okay after all.

They always do.



8 thoughts on “Clean floors

  1. Ami says:

    Oh mama, we’ve all scooped dinner off the floor at least once (maybe not all of us). Love you heaps. Now go get some glasses.

  2. Sage says:

    Rachel, your words always come to me at the right times. A new day is a new start. Enbrace the mess. Yes, I think we all could use a little bit of that…
    sending love your way

  3. mb says:

    Dear Rachel — I loved this post (and had intended to comment on it a month ago when you posted it). It reminded me of a folktale — maybe called something like Fortunately, Unfortunately.


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