okay ... I'll wash you. There is a certain advantage to the darkness of winter. Absence of streaming light lets you live in the delusions that include the absence of dust and dirt.
One of my favorite indicators around here is the door that leads from our dining room to the screened porch. The door quite obviously needs replacing, or someone practiced some serious artwork when they put it together. When the temp drops outside, the artwork appears. It is always the same. I have fields of flowers with tall stems that show up in the glass. Some pieces look like flying leaves, others like dandelions about to fly away on a breeze. They really are beautiful. I've tried many times to capture them. This time I caught one with my youngest on the phone in the background.
Then there are the indicators of time. Oh, how it flies. Before I even realize it, another week has gone. Then a month. Then a year. We seem to live by the clock and the calendar. I really don't need this abundance of clocks ... and I have more. I just love them. They never tell the same time. You have to know which clock to look at if you have a schedule to keep. The one on the left is a family treasure. It had been keeping time on Jari's parents' wall for many years before it moved to ours. It seems to have moods. Days where it decides it has kept time long enough and stops for a while. Sort of like me.
Meanwhile, the clock on the computer is indicating that I really need to start moving. We have services this afternoon and I have a salad to put together, a shower to jump in and a closet to dig through.
In really bright news, I can quit counting scoops and ounces of Tide. Jari will be home Monday evening. Indicators around here have been showing that we really miss him at home. I baked him pulla last night at 11:00 pm. That, my friends, is a serious indicator.