Peace… relatively speaking

These two.

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They are two years and six months apart. You would think that would be enough distance to allow each her own space to be the individual she was created to be.

They are as different as night and day both in physical characteristics and in personality and character.

And they bicker. There are days when I want to pull my hair out.

Some days, the pettiness and the vitriol that comes spewing out of their mouths causes my blood pressure to spike. I can feel it.

And then, there are days like this one. Where they are best friends. Each other’s number one fan.

I never know which one it’s going to be when the sun rises. And from how it begins to how it ends can be two entirely different things also. Who knows what triggers the swirling, pre-pubescent emotions of a young lady?

But for this day, I’ll take the peace that accompanies the excitement of a new instrument arriving home.

It’s a relative peace, of course, because the sounds of brass and scales have replaced the venom for the time being. There is nothing peaceful about a trumpet and a French horn playing in tandem.

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But it’s music to my ears. And today it fills my heart.

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