About the time you are reading this, I hope to be at my parents’ watching Anne of Green Gables with my mom. This will be after I take Little Miss to gymnastics, where she will prepare for an upcoming competition and I will read a book.

I hope I will be drinking a cup of tea of some kind at my parents.

What are you drinking today?

Is it cold or warm where you are?

It was warmer here earlier this week, but then dropped fast yesterday after a thunderstorm at 5 a.m. A thunderstorm in winter. It was certainly weird. I’ll miss the warm weather. That little sample was enough to make me long for spring. I feel better when it is sunny out. My sinuses are happier with warmer weather too.

Earlier in the week, Little Miss and I played outside and enjoyed the sunshine. She created slime and ran up and down the hill in the backyard with Zooma the Wonder Dog and then I read her history lesson to her. The wind wasn’t cold exactly. More like chilly but it was whipping fiercely most of the time and later that night I realized my face felt dry and chapped. I finally decided I had windburn, even though the wind wasn’t freezing.

That night, though, she developed a sore throat and a low-grade fever. She missed Awana, which she loves, and cried, but said her throat hurt when she talked, and she wouldn’t be able to sing either.

That night she fell asleep in her room with a fever while Bluey played on my phone. The moment struck me as wholesome. Her face was serene and beautiful. I watched her with her hand propped sweetly against her face and prayed that the next morning she would feel better and her fever would be gone. Thankfully it was.

I absolutely dread my children being sick. It’s not only because I lose sleep by watching over them, or in Little Miss’s case, tending to her when she can’t breathe through her nose or wakes up in a delirious feverish state, but because I simply cannot stand to see them suffer. I absolutely hate being sick, but I would rather be sick than see them hurt or suffer.

On Monday, I made a pot of ham and bean soup, which was really only local ham and butter means mixed together in the Instapot because I wasn’t sure what else to put in the soup.

My parents make their bean soup with onions and carrots, but the only carrots I had were canned and I was afraid they’d be too mushy. Also, my son doesn’t like cooked carrots and my daughter doesn’t like onions. This way they’d both be happy. I did find out later, though, that my parents now use canned carrots in their soup to cut back on all the work of cutting up fresh carrots.

It has become a tradition in my family that when one of us makes bean soup we send some to the other one. When my parents make bean soup, they make a huge pot of it and send containers of it to us because the kids absolutely love their bean soup. When I make some I send it on to them, even though their soup is always going to be better than mine.

This week is pretty void of appointments, thankfully.

I hope to keep working on a new cozy mystery I am writing.

Little Miss and I will also be continuing our lessons for homeschool, including history through fiction (I picked up some Imagination Station books for her. They are from Focus on the Family), science and math, which is something Little Miss and I frequently butt heads on. I hope that can get easier for us soon.

I found a couple of photos taken on the way back from our trip to Scranton a couple of weeks ago when I was downloading the photos from our sunny day Wednesday.

The sunset one is near a Procter and Gamble plant near us and the building is a former Catholic school that is now the location for a Jewish summer camp.

Tomorrow in my Sunday Bookends post, I will ramble about what I’ve been reading and watching this week.

How was your week last week? Try any new teas?