Exceptional

This week and the next both had fairly full squares across the calendar pages. Then the emergencies and unexpected came. Overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the to-do list's ever-increasing length, serious consideration was given to, "Assume the fetal position and rock." Wednesday saw a couple of cancellations that freed up the time to get a little ahead on the large amount of food that was needed for a meal to be delivered to our friend Elaine's family during their bereavement.
Except that the family members were planning a day trip on Thursday, and one member had a special meal they wished to prepare for the rest of the clan. And the prior meal deliveries were very generous. So. We'll be eating chicken seasoned with rosemary, oregano, and basil for a few days. It's lovely chicken. Tender and juicy in last night's alfredo pasta with red peppers and peas. Sure to make a yummy sandwich for Saturday lunch, and possibly turn up as "baked chicken parmesan" with a tomato sauce for another dinner. All to the good, because today had the most harried schedule so far this week.
Today the mister was headed in to work as soon as all the kids were off to school. He also requested my accompaniment on a lunchtime shopping trip in preparation for an imminent business trip (totally unplanned as of one week before his departure). The Boy was to compete in the Special Olympics Track and Field Meet today. Little Bit had Field Day at Pleasant Suburban Elementary. Middle Child was pushing to either go to the middle school girls' overnight retreat or spend the night with the friend whose mother lets them play in a construction site. I badly needed to meet up with my accountability partner after this week. Except.
How I love that word. An exception made with a forecast storm warning has bought the most priceless gift: solitude. Field Day is now in May. Special Olympics is next week. Middle Child is grounded. (Okay, that wasn't the rain.) My accountability partner opted for cancellation today. (Also not the rain.) And I am home alone for a couple of hours with the next few hot meals to be served around here already prepared. (Doubly glad considering the lack of pleasure to be had in lugging groceries through rain.) I think this morning was meant for a brief visit to twelfth century England and Normandy through the pages of a book while snuggled in a favorite blanket as the room darkens outside of my lamplight with the coming storm.
Exceptional.