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It’s been six days since I wrote last. Where has the time gone? We’ve been venturing out during the weekends. Last weekend we made the 30 minute drive in 100 degree heat to my husband’s grandmother’s house. This is the house where he grew up (next door) and where he lived as a young adult. We lived there one week after marrying.

Stevinson2  His grandmother and grandfather were a stable, supportive loving presence in his life. His grandfather passed away the summer before we met. His grandmother now lives about two hours away. The house sits. So we went to visit.

The drive is sentimental: all those late nights after long dates, driving home in the dark, the memories of the places where we stopped, for him the memories from all his life.

Halloween Treats2

I sneaked in and decorated one year. He lived in an apartment built into his grandmother’s garage.

Halloween Treats5

We live near your parents so we see your places all the time, he told me. We don’t often get out to see his.

He feels that sadness as we visit the house. That sense that it isn’t the same, it never can be again. My grandmother sold her house several years ago. I experienced the same sadness. All those hours spent, step by step observing her collection of art and furniture from China (my grandmother is Chinese), while there was nothing “kid-like” to do, but we were visiting anyway. Those places have a power all their own and it’s awful to let them go.

But that was just last weekend. Prior to that, I have been investigating new opportunities for my career, unsure if where it will all take me. Not ready to make a move just yet, but investigating, with a sort of amazement at the newly emerging possibilities.

My sister visited from Kansas. Reunions are funny things. I have only one sibling and we do not see her often. It’s interesting to see how my children sense that something familiar about her. It’s the genetics. And they like her very much.

My work schedule has changed. In the program for which I work, we are placed in schools, and as the schools are not operating during the summer, if we choose to work we will be placed in other programs. I sought out the Marketing Director and lobbied for a spot. I get to spend the next two months writing (and doing some interviewing then writing) for 12 hours a week. This is an unlooked for dream I never realized I had.

Our daughter is now enrolled in Mother of Divine Grace, a classical education homeschooling program. I don’t know if we could be more excited. As I wrote before, everyone has to find their own fit, based on their beliefs about education and their needs as a family. After our first consultation, I think we’re found ours. It isn’t about religion, it’s about art and it’s about accessing the unique gifts of the developmental age. And when it comes down to it, it’s about family. Driving her to preschool from 8-11am caused an immense disruption in our flow. We’ll adjust, I told myself. Yet it was joyful to go back. I don’t mind continuing the way it is now.

That said, I’m very excited to enroll my daughter in Vacation Bible Camp for the first year.

This weekend is a parish festival at my parent’s parish which we’ve been attending more and more. In two weeks I hope we’ll make it to my aunt and uncle’s home near Santa Cruz.

So with everything going on, and the change in my work to lots of writing, I anticipate writing here less. I hope you’ll stay with me when I do post, and when I pick it up again more frequently.

I will soon have for you the plans for the Triple Bunk Bed put together by my husband, and my experience making over our bathroom vanity. I tell you, what impact!

Godspeed!

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