Saturday, August 20, 2016

Happy To Be Home

This has been the summer of being on the go...we travelled to Hawaii,  road tripped to NorCal, that guy that I like so much was off on a retreat, and then I spent nearly two weeks on a work trip to Florida.  

I'm ready for the suitcases to be put away.  Far away.

Before my long trek to the other side of the country...which conveniently happened right as that guy that I like so much went back to work, I cooked and cooked and cooked so that they wouldn't have to worry about meals.

I'm not a big 'make ahead' cook and I've got a family of fresh food eaters but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.  

I boarded the plane with a pit in my stomach.  Not for fear of flying...I actually like to fly, but because there is this shift in my work life that has me sad and more than a bit worried.  There is a new management and a new way of things being run and while some things have been helpful, there is a whole new feeling of change.  And not for the better.  

I'm worried because it's not good and I have a boy who just started college and the whole thing is just not pretty.  In fact, it's gosh darn ugly.  But just like getting on that airplane, it's not in my hands and I just have to trust.

But it's hard.

I had breakfast at the Waffle House four times while I was travelling, each time with a different set of police officers but every time I ate the the same thing because those pecan waffles are so. gosh. darn. good.  They're malty and crispy and soft and I want one right now.  Please.  

Yum.

The working conditions were lovely.

Not.

Over the weekend I drove up to visit with my cousin who recently moved to Florida and we went to a nearby state park.  I love where she lives...it's so green and lush and beautiful.  Plus,  I got to see an alligator...thankfully from the safety of a glass bottom boat.

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Three people and three hundred selfies. 

What a bunch of goof balls.

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I was able to sneak in a very stormy, very rainy day at the Magic Kingdom and I can now say that yeah, the west coast park is best.  It's more compact but so much more character filled.

Sorry Disneyworld.

I flew through Denver and could've shopped for days and now I'm so bummed that I didn't buy this shirt.  Maybe on my next trip.

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And then I came home.  

Home.

I don't know what it is about this little house on this little street.  It's not fancy and it's not big and it's not the cleanest and it's just four walls like everybody else's....but it's just got this feel to it.  I can't explain it but it's like God's face just shines down on this little space and it almost feels sacred.

It's truly a special place.

Baby Brian...who is no longer a baby but it's really hard to not think of him as the baby, has moved into his dorm room and is ready to begin college.  What?  Really?  He's in college???

But, I already got an SOS call that he needed a Target run for random things we forgot and so I picked him up, did some shopping and then spoiled him for lunch at the Hatch.  

I really miss him.

And then today I realized that the boy who moved out took a whole bunch of random things with him and now I need to shop...things like my laundry basket and the trash can from the bathroom.

And I'm fighting the 'sads'...the end of era life changes that are happening.  We popped open a bottle of rose and grilled up some steaks and toasted life.  

Thirty years.  

Three boys.  

One really great God.

So here's to stage three.

Stage one - marriage.
Stage two - raising boys.
Stage three - party time.

Or something like that.  

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