We've returned from a Boston work conference and our annual pilgrimage to Storyland--one of those treasures I am still so grateful to have found through friends. We had the pleasure of a washer and dryer in our resort unit--a surprise, as we were given a free upgrade--and so we even have clean laundry. Can you imagine how sweet such a homecoming is with work and a new summer camp starting up in the morning? The clean clothes are nearly all put away, and we have a beautiful, sunlit evening ahead of us to simply enjoy being home.
We've all settled into our favorite spaces. The kids are sitting at the dining room table coloring pictures, while several feet away in what we affectionately (and practically) call "the piano room," there are toys of every make and manner spread across the futon and the floor. I found my way to my music pile and the piano (perhaps it was a few songs belted out that pushed the kids to the table!), and Matt was out in the yard, watering the garden, repairing the bird feeder (a dead branch brought his daily source of entertainment crashing down!), and breathing in all that green. Our kind neighbors delivered our garbage can and recycle bins to our door, without our even remembering to ask them, and we are celebrating once again this choice we made for our lives. We Love Where We Live.
Thank God for vacation. Gone are the too many hours in the car, the four letter words when it became apparent that yet another bag would need to be held on a lap, and the no-nap afternoons that stretched precariously through whiny evenings. With us are memories of swimming in the pool, closing down Storyland as we raced from one last ride to another, a visit from Auntie to celebrate our favorite little guy turning three, and that wonderful ironic pleasure in appreciating home by leaving it behind.