Juggling

There's a house down the street, one where the lights can often be seen burning all through the night. There are two cars in the driveway, although you'll only see one ever move. A woman, relatively young is often seen entering and exiting this house. She juggles. She will juggle books, children, pets, grief, loneliness, work, family, friends, chores, daily ups and downs, ups and downs and down some more...

Juggling is a necessary skill in this neighborhood. And those that drop their balls are often called weak. And those that are weak, don't usually live here for long.

Eyes can stay shadowed for months, dogs may bark when a twig is blown by the wind, and babies may scream 22 hours a day. Routine jobs are seldom held, oil changes are usually forgotten and chicken nuggets may be on the dinner table tonight.

But the floor is vacuumed and most likely Febreeze'd. Scentsey candles fragrance the air because Linda, two doors down, just had a party. The kitchen is swept and mopped, the laundry is folded, and the dishes done.

Makes you wonder what the important "balls" are.