Growning

Spose we all gotta grow up sometime. Baby horses, baby boys, grammies, sons and daughters.
Winter seems to have set in kinda serious like. The view from where I am sitting is white and gray with a few brown undertones. More snow is foretold to be on its way into the area; soon.
I have missed writing and felt the push to get back at it. My time and brain function do not seem to follow the same schedule. Even now nap time is calling loudly. But the house is quiet, even the dogs are not make annoying dog noises, licking, chewing, snorting, scratching. Two large dogs can produce a symphony of annoyances. I cannot believe I spelled that correctly the first time. Spellchecked twice and no apparent glitches. Thoughts are a bit random. Yep they are.
Another Allen and Stacey baby is on the way; a baby girl is to be born mid to late April. The blessed parents are incarcerated, again. History thought to be a great teacher, supposing the student is attentive, seems to be repeating itself. Perhaps one would be tempted to inquire of this writer what the plans are. We are waiting for God to reveal that in a blaze of fire in the sky. Cause at this point no one here has a clue. I am confident there is a Plan, and it will be revealed; but my feeble selfish mind and heart cannot see past their own brick wall of denial. Groaning prayers are offered up knowing God's Glory will be revealed in my weakness.
Alas, I love using that word in literary works, potty and bed are winning this battle. But I did write, albeit, weakly.