“Where, oh Where are you tonight? Why did you leave me here all alone?”

“I searched the world over, and I thought I found true love. You met another and pfffft you were gone.”

Ah. . .the sounds of my childhood. Where, exactly, have I been? It was a busy, busy summer. I got done with school, and had a week at home in which I had an interview. Then we left on vacation, and the principal of Magnolia Jr. High (where Tony works) called and said, “We want you to come work at Magnolia Jr. High.” And I said, “Weeeeeeeeeeellllllllllll. . .I’ll THINK about it.” Actually, I accepted before he even asked, it was just one of those formalities that must be observed.

Then we traveled several places and went to several camps and were so busy that we didn’t even have time to go SWIMMING. I kid you not. Then it was time for me to clean out my old room and start work at my new school. My mom came, and I got my new room put together, and I met a whole bunch of new kids and new staff and THAT, my friends, is where I’ve been. There was lots of other stuff too, but that is, as J.K. Rowling’s characters so often say, “Enough to be going on with.”

Last night, our family made our way across the street to see our neighbors. I was borrowing a movie from them to use in my classroom–we are studying the archetype of the hero and the hero’s journey. I’m just goin’ with it–it’s part of the curriculum. ANYWAY, I had not seen my lovely neighbor Ruth, and her dashing husband, Rick in far too long. She said she was glad to see me happy and well, because when my blog vanished and I didn’t show up outside for most of the summer, she was more than a little concerned.

So here I am. I have plenty of blog fodder. I no longer commute 70 miles per day. I am in the same car with my family going to and from work unless we have to take TWO cars for some reason. My world is full of happy sunshine and rainbows SERIOUSLY. This morning was “Meet You at the Pole” here in Texas, and I’m assuming everywhere. I stepped outside with the kids and listened to them pray, then our counselor offered us all a time to pray silently. I thanked God for all of my blessings–I thanked Him over and over and over. And the only thing I asked was that he guard my mind when I begin to doubt the wonderfulness of my life. When I begin to think that things are TOO good. That I am TOO blessed. That something HAS to go wrong, because things can’t be this wonderful all the time. I don’t think that too often, but you know that Satan likes to interject fear and doubt as often as he can. And I know that even when things DO go wrong or something bad DOES happen, I am still blessed.

But right now–well, right now is a time of deep and utter contentment. I feel stress climbing up the stem of my brain, and then I remember that there is nothing to keep at bay. All is well.

All is well.

And now, for a Hee-Haw reference. You’re welcome.


“In the Style of” on a Tuesday night

I just read a post from my friend, Rebecca. It is an AWESOME post written “in the style of” one of her favorite authors. I went to the link she posted so I could see how to “play” as she put it. Alas, my brain will not play like that at 9:55 on a Tuesday, but I CAN share with you a little snippet from an author that makes me WANT to write. I wrote about Natalie Babbitt here originally. I give you the excerpt again, and look toward the day when I can accept the challenge of using HER style to write a little ditty.

From Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt

“The road to Treegap had been trod out long before by a herd of cows who were, to say the least, relaxed. It wandered along in curves and easy angles, swayed up and off in a pleasant tangent to the top of a small hill, ambled down again between fringes of bee-hung clover, and then cut sidewise across a meadow. Here its edges blurred. It widened and seemed to pause, suggesting tranquil bovine picnics: slow chewing and thoughtful contemplation of the infinite. And then it went on again and came atlast to the wood. But on reaching the shadow of the first trees, it veered sharply, swung out in a wide arc as if, for the first time, it had reason to think where it was going. . .In the end, however, it was the cows who were responsible for the wood’s isolation, and the cows, through some wisdom they were not wise enough to know they possessed, were very wise indeed.”