Whereforth

The sunny spell has ended.  You can actually hear the rain beating down on the house.  Rare.  But the Man is restless.  This would be the time he is out there with his racket and friends, beating the hell out of green round things (self censorhip applies) and generally having a good time working the aging muscles.

This has been a strange winter - lots of early rains followed by a couple of weeks of deep chill followed by a couple of weeks of spring weather and back to rains.

Three days of salmon sashimi has sated the three of us.  Time to tackle the saba and albacore.  People in the States don't eat enough fish but that generalization stops at our front door.  Well, at least for this week.

Lately, it has been hard coming to terms with settling down.  That trip back had woken a longing for the familiar and the kinship that defined much of my life.  Growing up surrounded by the smells, sound, congestion, gabble in many tongues and ties that bind heart and soul.  It is lonely here with the nearest kin a couple hours drive away and not a whole lot of contact.  Friends are wonderful but a poor substitute for bonds bound by blood.  So silently, in the deep areas of the soul, a tiny grain of thought made its way through layers of doubt and contemplation.  Two years.  An empty nest.  Loosened strings and ankle chains.  Feelings of guilt smothered and brushed away - it is almost time for me to have time for me.  The Man is playing leaving on a jet plane on his guitar.  How apt!

For the sake of the next generation, I have toiled and pulled my family into a place with space to roam and room to grow beyond the material.  It is enough.