Alex is coming home this weekend. Let the piles begin. And I say that with love, and a weird kind of maternal excitement. She seems a little older every time she returns, and it’s kind of neat to see who she is becoming when she’s not with us (and so far, that’s a good thing).
Lance Armstrong may be in our little town on Sunday. I have been conflicted about Lance for a long time now, but do appreciate what he’s done. Last week the New York Times discussed the differences between Lance the myth and Lance the man, and that helped a bit. I may try and sneak a glimpse, but I suspect that on Monday I will still be conflicted.
Going to see a blues harmonica blow out tonight at The Palms, with Dick and Gail. One of the musicians is named Magic Dick. I am already giddy with anticipation over the immature jokes I will be making.
Kate has a job. In fact, she had two job offers this week, and was able to pick the one with the magic component. It’s not the job she anticipated, but it has the potential to be delightful, fun, energizing, engaging and nurturing. I will hold the details for the moment, but she’s excited, so we are too. Plus she’s making art….so that’s all good, and we can all breathe easier now. Some of us can breathe, period. Of course, I am certain she will find a way to use her Latin on a daily basis. Because we know she can.
Projects everywhere. Steve has his secret corner project, I am imagining repainting my grandmother’s metal garden chairs yellow (from the purple I painted several years ago). Hoping for gazpacho, and photography, and gardening, and blogging, and reading, and maybe a bike ride to see the sunflower fields. I hear rumors of a possible mountain hike.
That’s plenty, dontcha think? Happy weekend. See you on the flip side.