Carefully pressed into the small nooks of my mind are thoughts waiting to be shaken out, like sheets after a winterâ€™s storage in cedar scented drawers. Iâ€™m aching to tell you about a painting Iâ€™ve finished, to let down my hair and write wildly, with gusto. But not today. Today, my mind feels like the fine shards of slate that sheer away from the main piece, exposing layers of mineral color; patterns variegated and delicate. Too much in too little time, still. Every moment at the house, now often with Bean in tow (and like the trooper he is, he plays with wrenches and ratchets in the Pack&Play, narrating to himself softly in babblespeak.) Yesterday, the rollercoaster of sheer delight: the job. A first grade position at a school very near my house; abundant with professional development, resources, support. I can see this next transition---shifting back into the mode of teacher, but with the newly gained clarity, patience, organization, and rest that this year off has afforded me. I can imagine loving the daily challenge, the vibrancy of full-force ahead involvement, the laughter and camaraderie of colleagues. And graduate classes. Finally.
But today dawned drenched with rain and dark, and with the weather came other somber thoughts: finding Bean a just right morning daycare program (DH can pick him up at noon every day) looms now more daunting than any job search ever did. How do I do this? What should I look for? Ask? Say? (Advice please.)
Sunday Iâ€™ll get to write, and finish another paintingâ€”but tomorrow, itâ€™s all day at the house again. Weâ€™re painting, and during our breaks, we saunter about inspecting the wild thicket of green and blossoms everywhere. Here, Iâ€™ve kept you in suspense long enough. Some pictures:
Oh--and and I absolutely HEART you all for all the sweetness of last post's comments.