I have things I'd like to write. Over the weekend I officiated a wedding at a farm on a lake in New Hampshire. Yesterday we spent the day in Lowell exploring canals and museums and trolleys. Plus all the things from last week and before that I don't even remember. But there's not much time, it turns out; not even after the party ends for the day.
This evening we had nine adults and six kids (counting us all) over for dinner. I made chili, coleslaw, cornbread, and sourdough bread. Before that the boys and I cleaned the house (pretty much). Zion got stung by something so he couldn't do much cleaning. Before that we biked the nine-mile round-trip to the farmers market. That was after our lunch of hard-boiled eggs, cheese, roasted broccoli, and honey whole wheat bread hot out of the oven. We did school all morning (after chores and walking the dog around the block). Each of the boys wrote a story about the Lowell trip; Harvey drew a map of the living room; Zion counted dimes and pennies while Harvey timed himself on addition facts. When Harvey got frustrated he threw himself backwards and bumped his head pretty badly on the shelf. For breakfast we had biscuits and jam.
Somehow, in all of that, I didn't get a blog post written. Maybe I can copy Harvey's story in tomorrow. He's clearly way ahead of me.
Every season is busy in its own way. I'm delighted to be getting some serious time to do school with the boys, and to have the house cool enough to bake—you can tell how delighted I am by how I go on about it! Maybe once winter settles in we'll have more calm writing time. But I'm not ready for winter until I manage to do a couple building projects outside. So you can see there's a bit of queue. I want to write...