This morning my son had the wind knocked out of him because he fell as he was following me down the attic stairs while snapping pictures of my wild morning hair and giggling with evil glee. After I got past the point of being scared to death that he had mortally hurt himself, I thought that perhaps he was justly recompensed for his wicked actions.
(blurred picture of my crazy hair, taken before nearly mortal accident)
Last Thursday night I went to see Anne Lamott, and she was just lovely and wonderful, as I knew she would be (but there is this fear, always, when seeing an author, that perhaps they are much more magical on paper than in real life). I wrote her a little note, and I practiced writing her name on a piece of scratch paper before writing it on the envelope. I stood in line (I was #347) to have her sign my copy of Help, Thanks, Wow, and she was kind and gracious as I mumbled something that was most likely idiotic and incoherent. My friend Jeannine snapped a picture of us (I didn't want to pose with Anne for yet another idiotic and incoherent reason, so I made Jeannine promise she would just discreetly snap a picture).
Live in the city because I can't live without the art gallery, the symphony, used bookstores, my friends, and a good coffee shop.
Live out in the country because I don't think I can live without some land, some trees, some chickens, and some goats.
Basically, we want the impossible.
We are going to an Amish wedding on Friday (technically an Old German Baptist wedding. Same difference, basically, except that our friends sport buttons on their clothes and don't know Pennsylvania Dutch). We are excited to see Alexander and Rosanna get married. They got to take their buggy into town on Friday to get their marriage license, and the day they spent together (1 1/2 hours each way), was the most time they had ever spent together. Alex was glad they had not had any more time together, since their courtship has included a no physical contact policy. I am wondering if they will get past holding hands on their wedding night. I am curious and excited to attend their wedding. Apparently the wedding reception will include fruit cups, cookies, carrots, and celery.
We saw our Old German Baptist friends on Saturday. They invited us, yet again, to housesit for them while they attend a church conference in Indiana. I am excited about this. I think. No, I am. But I really missed a hot shower last time. And the outhouse wasn't always pleasant.
We still miss Leia. Don't tell anyone, but I sleep with her collar under my pillow. And since our Easter tree, which was adorned with prayers for her, is a magnolia tree, I get very sad every time I see a magnolia tree, which basically means every time I leave my house. I feel like I should buck up and not be so sad anymore, but the truth is, I miss her. Last night when I went to bed that sadness literally felt like a heavy, blanketing weight, and I curled myself up under that sadness until I finally fell asleep.
The kids have decided that our next dog needs to be a chocolate lab or a golden retriever (or some kind of mix of the two), and they want him to be named Luke Skywalker (you know, Leia's brother). I have been obsessively checking for a chocolate lab/golden retriever puppy, even though we won't get a new dog until we are back from our housesitting gig.
I am researching homeschool curriculum for Amélie for next year. I think I have it figured out, which always happens this time of year, which means that I want this year to be over already so we can start anew.
I am sending Jack to first grade next year.
I love Jack, with my whole heart and then some, but I don't want to homeschool him right now.
He has loved his half-day kindergarten class.
Quite frankly, I don't want to teach first grade.
And Jack wants to eat lunch at school next year.
It's a win-win for all of us.
That's it, I think, at least for now.