Tag Archives: busyness

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Spoiler alert: an extremely long, rambling, and probably quite boring exposition on our last six days of existence here on Egan Street. Consider yourself warned.

My to-do list for today very plainly says, “Don’t blog until after weekend,” with a row of smilies after it, but I’m realizing that since I’ve started blogging again, I tend to write about the good. And mostly just that. It’s easier to post cute pictures and expound on the toddler and his kitty than it is to even try to begin delving into the hard.

But if there’s any time to try, it might be now. Because it’s been hard. There hasn’t been a lot of sweet or cute or easy. And maybe instead of waiting till I have something fun to write about, I should just jump in now.

So at the risk of sounding like I’m complaining, here goes . . . ...continue reading →

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In moving, there comes a strange moment when you can’t remember which house you’re in, what you would see if you looked out the window, and where you would be if you stepped outside. . .

And then you realize you’re not actually in Gervais, you’re in Newberg, and you still have half a day of packing staring you in the face. But you smile anyway and reach for another fistful of Lucky Charms and another wrinkled sheet of wrapping paper, and you pull yet another mug from the cupboard and put it in yet another box and are so grateful that you have a husband and that he has brothers and that they are the ones who will carry all these heavy boxes out of your pretty little house for the last time.

I like moving. ...continue reading →