From the get-go, I heard God telling us to position ourselves for what was next, even though we had no idea what that meant. We didn’t even know how or where, but we let go of our Thunder Bay life and the security it provided, and ventured out to one of the most expensive places to live in our country during one of the hardest economic times our country has ever seen.

And I had a job within ten days of landing.

Finding a house took quite a bit longer.

After seven weeks of living with family and in hotels, we now live in the Bay Area in a 2200 sf home with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. I thought we’d be living in a dive of a place, squished into all the corners of the house. But no, God opened the door for us to rent the perfect house for us. The layout is roomy, it’s painted the perfect neutral color (buttery yellow), and all our stuff and decorations work nicely. We thought we might have to give up our chow-chow, Zeke, but no, he gets to live here too. The neighbourhood is just right for us too – a mix of ages, family situations, socio-economic levels, and ethnicities. Of course, the rent is astronomical, but that’s just par for the living-in-the-SF-Bay-Area course.  We’re mostly unpacked with only about twenty boxes to go (not counting the crazy stuff in the garage). Half of the pictures are hung, and it’s starting to feel like home.

I’m working in an unbelievable position. I never imagined I would have a job like this. I get paid enough for Henry to stay home with the kids and homeschool while also pursuing some freelance work on the side. He might even be able to start a class in the spring. My job also provides four weeks of vacation and two weeks of sick pay – the universal allowance for everyone from the janitors to the CEO. I have superb benefits for my entire family for only $200 per month. I have a 401K for the first time ever! The woman I work directly for is amazing. She is a godly woman who is obviously admired by all who work there. I am surrounded by a welcoming and supportive team of admins. If I have to be away from my kiddos for eleven hours per day, this is where I want to be.

However, this is not it. We know that life is about more than where we live and work. It’s about the part of God’s story we’ve been invited to live. It’s about honing in on our talents and unique giftings. It’s about the friendships we make and the conversations we have. It’s about listening to and learning from the stories of those who live around us.  It’s about seeing how God’s image is uniquely revealed in every human being. It’s about living out God’s kingdom laws of love and justice here on earth.

In all the hubbub of the last seven weeks, I’ve had to remind myself that this step of faith has never been about the house or the job, even though those two things have been the focus. It was easy to lose sight of the real reason we moved. When it was so hard to find a place to live, at times, I doubted that there was even a bigger plan at all. I’m thankful that I had the year I did before moving because I heard so clearly from God during that time. Those moments kept me strong when I couldn’t hear or see God moving.

In some ways, it’s overwhelming to think that there’s more. I feel like we have enough going on already. But at the same time, I can’t wait to see what it is the Wild Goose has led us to. We’re now in position for the key relationships and opportunities that God set up with us in mind.

When we realized we’d be moving to California, we had to make a choice between which country to explore. We went back and forth a few times. We weren’t sure we’d ever take a long drive through the Canadian prairies if not this time. Our friend Shara even told me about Al Capone’s Prohibition Days headquarters located in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. You can tour a bunch of underground tunnels that connect buildings. That sounded really fun to explore! However, in the end, we chose to go through US Customs in Grand Portage, Minnesota, only 35 minutes from Thunder Bay. We felt more comfortable doing it there in case of a problem. We’d rather go back to Thunder Bay to spend the night than try to do it in Medicine Hat, Alberta, and get stuck in the middle of nowhere!

The original plan was to visit both Mt. Rushmore and Yellowstone, but we realized that if we stopped in Yellowstone, we’d want to stay a lot longer than we could. It added a few hours to our drive, but there’s no way we could pass up the opportunity to visit Mt. Rushmore.

I was always curious about Mt. Rushmore as a kid. It was an impressive monument, of course, but there was something else that confounded me about it, and I think it made me even more interested in seeing it. I thought God had formed those mountains that way! I was comfortable with the idea that God knew everything before it happened, and that fact that He knew who four of the presidents would be was cool. And He put their faces on a mountain. It made sense. What didn’t make sense was this: Why would we bother having elections then? When it was time to vote for the sixteenth president, they could’ve just looked up at Mt. Rushmore and predicted the outcome.

I don’t know how long it took me to figure out that someone actually carved it, but I was always still fascinated by the monument. A few years back while we were on a road trip, I used to make up stories for the kids about the “Kneeknocker” family. (“Kneeknockers” is another  blog post.) I thought I would tell the kids stories about various geographic locations in the States so they would have a little bit of US understanding. My first story took the family to Mt. Rushmore.

Visiting Mt. Rushmore in real life was amazing. The weather was really nice, perhaps a bit on the warm side, but the skies were clear and blue. We ate lunch in the cafeteria there first. After I finished my $6 hotdog, I turned around and noticed that the people sitting across from me (Henry, Maxson, and Anneliese) had a perfect view of the mountain! If I’d known, I would’ve switched seats with the littlest kids! They didn’t care!

We only had about 2 hours to explore. We took a few pics of the monument (okay, more than a few; probably twenty-five!) then we took the one-mile walk called the Presidents Trail. Stop one was an interactive display of how they made teepees. There were a few buffalo hides out, one in the process of being tanned. The ranger told us the tanning process and gave me a whole new appreciation for leather!

The trail then took us across the base of the Mountain where you had different views of the faces. At the end of the trail was the “sculptor’s studio” where we heard about the process. Elia got to be the “model” for one of the explanations! It was a very interesting story. Did you know that the monument isn’t even completed? The plan was to carve out more, but Gutzon Borglum (the guy who dreamed of the project) ran out of funding. While he was in Washington DC requesting more money, he got sick, ended up in the hospital, and died. Soon after, his son, Lincoln (yes, named after the 16th president) petitioned Congress to stop production. He said it was his father’s dream and his father’s art. If anyone else were to touch it, it wouldn’t be his father’s anymore. So Congress passed a law (or something) preventing anymore production. The workers cleaned up what had already been done, then walked away.

If I get to homeschool the kids next year, we’re definitely spending some time learning a little more about Mt Rushmore. I suppose a few hours would be enough! Jeremiah is very fascinated with history, wars, the presidents, etc. so I know he would enjoy learning more about this. (As a side note, he’s also very curious about National Parks all of a sudden!)

We finally left Mt. Rushmore around 4:00; we still had to go back to the hotel to pick up the U-haul, transfer stuff back to the mini-van, then drive six hours to Rawlins, WY.

What a beautiful drive that was! The rock formations in the Black Hills were astounding. The Badlands were calling to us to come explore them. And the plains of Wyoming – everything grassy and green… What a beautiful part of our country.

It’s been really good to drive through the US to get to California. It’s been kind of like our “homeland” has rolled out the red carpet to welcome us home – a really loooooong red carpet!

We woke up in Eagan, MN. I didn’t sleep much in the weeks leading up to our departure from Thunder Bay, so I was really, really tired. I think we all were because it took us forever to get out of the hotel parking lot! I had hoped to pull out around 9:30; it was 11:30. And wouldn’t you know it: we needed to stop for gas. The U-haul takes forever to fill, but we happened to pick a gas pump that must’ve had molasses in it because that’s how slow it was moving.

Our next stop was the bank so we could deposit our equity cheque from the sale of our house. It was a certified cheque from a Canadian bank (Canadian dollars). Henry phoned last week to make sure we could have access to it immediately (for the deposit on our rental and for emergency money for our trip).  Henry was told we would be able to pull out money – no problem. However, after being in the bank for 30 minutes, I saw Henry walk out with a frustrated look on his face. Because our account is new (we set it up during our California visit in May), we would have to wait 2-3 weeks to have it available to us. That was very frustrating! We both started worrying that we wouldn’t be able to make it to California because we wouldn’t have enough cash to get us there!

But we didn’t have time to sit around – we had a 10-hour drive ahead of us, and it was already noon! I was leading in the mini-van because I had the gps, so I pulled out and started making our way to Hill City, South Dakota, near Mt. Rushmore. Ten minutes or so into the drive, I noticed that the gps route was different than the google maps route I’d printed out back in Thunder Bay. I didn’t know which way to take! I wasn’t sure which route would be better for the U-haul (gas, winding roads, etc.) and which one was faster! Since it was lunch time, we decided to pull over and make our decision over lunch. We were still in Eagan, and it was 12:30! (Or was it 1:00?)

After we all ate lunch at Taco Bell (only $15!), we finally pulled out. We’d decided to take the gps route so I wouldn’t have to keep looking at a piece of paper. Besides, it seemed like the better route for the U-haul.

But I still hadn’t had any coffee at all that day, and I still felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into a McDonald’s to get some coffee because I was afraid I wouldn’t make it without some caffeine. It took so long for us to finally get out of that area!

The drive down to Albert Lea and along the southern part of Minnesota was nice. It was a really warm, muggy day, which contributed to everyone’s exhaustion and crabbiness, but the air conditioned car and the hum of the engine lulled the kids to sleep. I munched on sunflower seeds to give my hands something to do and to keep myself awake.

Right after crossing into South Dakota, I heard a weather alert on the radio for tornadoes! I had noticed the strange orange-green-brown colour of the sky, but the thought of tornadoes being that close was unnerving. I radioed Henry and told him to listen to the same radio station. A few minutes later, we heard a warning for flash floods for the area we were driving through. A few minutes after that, the warning was for “fatal” thunder storms known to produce “destructive,” walnut-sized hail. The skies were getting darker and darker, and we were driving right toward the storm! Soon rain started to hit our windshields, and I noticed lightning here and there. The weather report had said not to drive on roads that were covered in water, but I couldn’t even see the road from all the rain hitting my windshield! Then the hail started, and the lightning got closer. I kept radioing Henry, asking him what to do. (He spent a summer in Kentucky.) He said everything was fine, that if there were a real problem, the fifteen or so other cars on the road wouldn’t be out there. I didn’t agree. I said, “They’re not listening to the radio!! If we have a Wizard of Oz experience, I’m blaming you”

Once I was slowed to 25 mph and couldn’t see, I decided I couldn’t handle it. I was starting to shake and cry because it was only getting worse. A few times, the lightning flashed so bright in the skies directly ahead of me that I was momentarily blinded. As I pulled over, I saw a couple of lightning strikes less than half a mile away go from the sky to the ground.

By the time I was stopped, I was hyperventilating. I thought I was going to die, and I was mad at Henry for not being worried! He told me to just sit tight and make sure I was breathing properly. However, pretty soon, I noticed my hands and feet were tingling. “My hands and feet are going numb!” I told him. Henry said, “Just start moving them around. Get the blood flowing.” I’d never experienced that kind of fear before. The only time I’d hyperventilated was for a couple of breaths during the transition part of labour!

That actually woke me up to the fact that I needed to get my act together. I needed to get control of myself. I shook my hands and feet around for a while, and after a bit, I gained the courage to move forward. I pulled onto the highway slowly, and within 15 minutes, we were out of the storm, and it felt like nothing had happened.

We stopped for supper about 2 hours later, and Henry told me that he heard on the radio that a tornado had touched ground about 10-15 miles north of where we were. So I guess my fears weren’t completely unfounded.

We got back on the road, and the rest of that day’s drive was uneventful. The views were beautiful, especially the sunset. I told Henry, “I love South Dakota sunsets, but I don’t like their weather!” I decided that I never want to live in the midwest.

We finally pulled up to our hotel around 1:30am. I was so glad that day was over!

When our pastor, Doug, came to our home in Corvallis to interview us almost 3 years ago, I offered him iced tea. He asked me if it was sweetened, and I told him, “Yes, with a bit of Splenda.” Since it was over 100 F that day, he guzzled down several glasses, even though it was almost 10:00 at night. I felt good that I was able to provide him with a beverage that pleased him! But now I know what he really meant when he asked if the tea was sweetened, and I’m not sure I gave him what he was looking for after all.

Henry has held several lunch meetings with his children’s ministry volunteers, and in the beginning, we almost always bought a couple of bottles of pop. But we soon learned that people here don’t drink as much pop as our American friends. Once again, another cultural nuance to adapt to. Many people choose water over pop! Another example of this is when our friends come over on Thursday nights for Grey’s Anatomy, only Christen accepts our offer of pop! Everyone else wants boring (albeit healthy) water.

But you know what these Thunder Bayans love to drink? Iced tea. I learned early on, though, what iced tea means to them. It comes in a 2L bottle, and it seems to be made of syrup, just like pop. Sans carbonation. I find it disgusting. It’s usually sickeningly sweet with some fake lemon flavour. I’m pretty sure it’s Lipton. But it’s what they like! Many of my Canadian friends drink it, and most really do NOT like my idea of iced tea.

When I was growing up, my mom drank so much iced tea, especially in the summer. She didn’t just scoop some of that tea powder into a glass and add cold water. (Blech!) I still can remember the big see-through-y Tupperware container she brewed it in. After steeping the Lipton tea bags in hot water, she added cold water and ice. Whoever was drinking it would add the amount of sugar they wanted, at most about 2 tsp. Mmmm.. Resfreshing!

When I lived in Oregon, I purchased a jar to make sun tea. (Yeah, “sun” tea in Oregon. I know. I didn’t have many opportunities to make it.) I’d brew it out in the sun, then add a perfect amount of Splenda, just sweet enough to accent the flavour of the tea. It tasted soooo good poured over a glass of ice.

Even though at least half of my Thunder Bay friends enjoy tea, neither of these options are very popular here. My friend Becky finds my “cold hot tea” disgusting. I think only one of my friends, Leslie, likes it like I do. When our pastors and wives visit Niagara for the district retreat, those who order iced tea clarify by saying “sweet tea.”

But to me, “sweet tea” means something entirely different. Henry lived in Kentucky, and he knows what sweet tea is.

Even though I live in Thunder Bay now, I still stand by my brewed iced tea, especially in the summer. It’s a summer staple, just like lemonade. But something happened recently.

It all started last Friday, an absolutely gorgeous day, when Carrie, my neighbour, brought a can of Lipton’s Citrus-flavoured Green Iced Tea to our little lunch picnic. She left it for me to try. At first, I was going to give it back. I think I even told her that I don’t really like canned iced tea. But later that afternoon, I pulled it out of my fridge and took a sip.

It was delicious. It was refreshing. And it was not sickeningly sweet. I ended up buying a couple of cases for us (including a diet one) and another one for a meeting we had on Sunday. And, unlike the leftover pop we always have, everyone took a can.

I think I finally have connected with these Thunder Bay iced tea-drinkers.

We think of patience in quantitative terms. We look at other moms and think, “Wow. She has so much patience.” We consider it to be something that can be developed. We “exercise” patience and equate it to preparing for a marathon. If we run diligently everyday, then eventually we could run forever.

I’m convinced that every mom believes that if we had more patience, then we would be perfect mothers. We wouldn’t snap at our kids. We wouldn’t give up in our attempts to keep a clean home. We would be consistent in our expectations for our children. We wouldn’t be completely worn out at the end of the day if we simply had more patience.

But when a girlfriend asked me this weekend, “What should we do when we run out of patience?” something struck me. I realized that when I’m “out of patience” with my kids, it’s not that the well is dry. The “out of ” in the phrase is not referring to what I have in me; it refers to what state I am in. I am not in a frame of mind to be patient any longer. It’s not that I’m tapped out; it’s that I can’t hold my tongue anymore. If anything, I’ve run out of strength to control myself.

For me, being patient is more of a state of mind. It’s a choice to stop and control myself. It’s what my brain is doing while my children are whining.

These are completely unedited, raw thoughts. I’m still mulling it over. I’d love to hear what your thoughts are. Do you think patience can be measured, or is it a state of mind?

• She has three boys that she loves to pieces, and yet they still make her pull her hair out.
• Her husband (whom I did get to know a little in college) is one of the major truth-tellers in her life; luckily, they love each other a lot.
• She has a weakness for chocolate.
• She likes High School Musical movies and Radio Disney.
• She is a pastor’s wife.
• To follow God, she has made at least one major move, at least once with children in tow.
• She deeply loves God, but often gets hung up on the day-to-day struggles of housecleaning, sour milk in the mini-van, serving snacks every two minutes to her boys, and laundry. (She has a great song that combines her loathing of laundry with her love for HSM.)

In my first post for Color in the Gray, I admitted to staying up until 1:00 am reading mom blogs. The one that had the most effect on me was Sue’s Confessions of a Tired Supergirl. I was laughing out loud, then crying, then laughing again, all within the same five-minute time-span. Reading Sue’s blog did two things for me: first, it helped me realize that whether or not I enjoy my life is up to my perspective, not my circumstance. Am I going to get caught up in the gray-ness of my life, or am I going to celebrate the specks of color that flicker through it, even if just for a moment? Secondly, when I read her “confessions,” I felt more than ever that I am not alone in my day-to-day life as a wife, a mom, a daughter, and a friend.

Sue Foth Aughtmon’s My Bangs Look Good and Other Lies I Tell Myself was recently published, and when I saw the opportunity to be part of her book blog tour, I couldn’t pass it up. Her book is just as refreshing as her blog, flavored with the same frankness, wit, humor, and vulnerability about her own life, all pointing to life-changing truths that we tired supergirls (“tsgs”) often forget.

As I read each chapter title, I frequently thought, “Hmmm…. I think I’m good on this one.” However, the more I read, I came to realize that I had forgotten the truth and succumbed to believing the lie. I think I’m especially vulnerable to lies right now. Here are just a few of the parts that spoke to me:

• With all the craziness, upheaval and unknown of this season, I’ve fallen prey to Lie #7: God Doesn’t Hear Me.
• In another chapter, Sue wrote, “[The Liar] often likes to paint the corners of our souls with fear.” Doh! He got me again!
• Throughout my life, one of my deepest desires has been to fulfill my God-given purpose and make a difference on this earth. However, as I look at my list of tasks and my list of short-comings, I often start believing Lie #6: God Can’t Use Me. I resonate with Sue’s line in the book that says, “Some mornings I feel truly uninspired by who I am.” Then she reminds me of the Apostle Peter and the truth that I need to be ready for God to use me.

Not only is the content right on the money, but the structure of the book is in perfect, bite-sized pieces for busy supergirls. In an average of just five pages per chapter, Sue is able to engage you and then walk you through to the life-changing principle. That’s only about five minutes of reading per chapter! It’s great for reading on your own, but it would even be perfect for a coffee/chat time with fellow tsgs because it has a few simple questions to discuss after reading each chapter.

There’s a lot of truth-telling crammed into those five minutes, and when you put the book down, you’re left with a lot to chew on. You should buy it because it’s fun (I laughed out loud at least once per chapter!) and because it’s inspiring. It’s available now at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

By the way, after you read this book, you should also go back and read All I Need is Jesus and A Good Pair of Jeans. Or better yet, order them both at the same time!

NOTE: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Baker Publishing Group. This has neither positively nor negatively biased my review.

And to be honest, I didn’t even take personal time to contemplate the cross. When The Passion of the Christ came out on dvd, I bought it with the intention of watching it every Good Friday, but it’s still in its wrapper. The most contemplation I was able to do this year was just a worship song here or a thought there through the week.

By Saturday afternoon as I was getting the house and food and Easter outfits ready, I was feeling discouraged about even celebrating Easter at all. If I don’t even take the time to acknowledge Jesus’ (and God’s) sacrifice, then I am treating it as the Chocolate Bunny Holiday.

That evening after supper, the holiday festivities for the Zonios could begin. I had made a double batch of my mom’s bread recipe so I could make buns for Easter supper and hot cross buns for breakfast. I was running short on time, so I decided to have the four kids do the rolling. Henry and I just took the appropriate-sized chunks of dough off and kept handing them out to the kids, and we had the first half of rolls ready in about 3 minutes!

Then I had an idea, so the kids helped make the evening’s dessert. We gave them the same size chunks of dough for making rolls, but then we also handed them marshmallows to stuff inside. (I cringed a bit thinking, “But we can’t have these Resurrection Rolls until Easter morning!” I went ahead with it anyway because I need to stop being so uptight!) I set aside the rest of the dough to make Hot Cross Buns after the kids went to bed.

Then came time to dye eggs. All of a sudden I remembered how much wait-time is involved in dying eggs, and I thought about the messes and arguing that would ensue. My quick-thinking worked to my advantage this time, and I told Henry, “Go get the Resurrection Eggs so we can do them while the eggs are sitting in the cups!”

It worked out so well! Of course, there was lots of chaos, and we weren’t all focused on the same thing at the same time. Instead, Henry took charge of the Resurrection Eggs, and while one kid’s hands were free of real eggs, they took turns opening the plastic eggs and peeking at the prize inside. Maxson hardly paid any attention to the egg-dying process, as he was excited about the prizes and story being told by them. It wasn’t even structured, but all the kids bounced in and out of the conversation. Maxson acted out all the parts of the Passion from his chair: “And they put the crown on Jesus’s head like this!” as he placed the 3-inch plastic ring on his head.

Of course, there was arguing going on over who would open the next plastic egg, along with, “Who has the invisible crayon?” and “I want to use green!” There was a lot of commotion. However, I enjoyed hearing the spontaneous contributions the older kids were making to the story too.

I love structure and directed, deliberate conversations; quiet contemplation and Scripture-reading stir up reverence and gratitude in my soul. But this spontaneous, busy, random conversation we had with our kids fed my soul too. Even this crazy moment filled my heart and mind with awareness of what was done for me. It was the spiritual preparation for Easter I needed.

After the egg-dying and plastic-egg opening was over, the kids got their jammies on just in time for the Resurrection Buns to be eaten. They all had fun breaking open their rolls to find that they were empty. It wasn’t a deeply spiritual moment, but it was fun!

Last night as I was going to bed, I thought over the week and how it had all transpired. It’s always crazy for a mom to get ready for any holiday, and I’ve struggled for years to try to find a quiet place to stop and consider the meaning behind the festivities and the preparations. This year, I was able to find a few moments here and there to remember, and most of those moments were noisy and busy. God spoke straight to my heart and mind through the chaos.

I’m thinking right now how glad I am that we have holidays and  that there are children. Holidays are our opportunity to stop and remember what happened. Because of children, we are compelled to tell the story. Every time we tell the story, something else will stand out and resonate with us. I don’t have to throw out the festivities because I can’t find time for contemplation; I just have to find a way to make it all work together.

The same power that raised Christ from the dead is the same power that is in work in me. It is the same power that is making a way for our new life in California.

Like I said, it’s nothing new, but just being made aware of that gives me renewed confidence that God knows what He’s doing and is able to do it. That power is at work on my behalf. It’s going to be okay.

photo from Flickr, posted by Horia Varlan

When we envision or hope for God to do something in our lives, we picture what should better be called “magic.” We trust Him to wave his magic wand, and – poof! – things are no longer as they were. What once was is no longer, or what once wasn’t, all of a sudden is. A path suddenly clears for us. A tumour disappears. Negative feelings are instantaneously replaced with positive. Sometimes God works His “magic,” and that is what we like to call a miracle. And it really is.

But most of the time, God’s miracles look more like chemistry. In order for something to be changed in chemistry, there is a process. Things are combined and stirred up. Heat is applied. There is often a waiting period. And the most exciting ones (according to my bio-chemistry major husband) involve explosions. There has to be some kind of reaction for change to happen.

If we think about it, chemistry is just as awe-inspiring as magic. We have to wait for it to happen, but we can see the process as it unfolds. Amidst the stirring and the heating and the explosions, change is taking place at the molecular level. It’s not simply an illusion – we know for certain that it’s real.

This kind of God-activity in our lives should also be called a miracle, as it is the most common way God works in our lives. It is a miracle that He would even love us enough to want to.

1. For the past several months, Jeremiah (10) and Elia (8) have been using their word “discluding.” Here’s how they use it: Last night I told Elia that I wanted her to empty her laundry basket, including all the little things I’ve found in the house and put in there. She responded with, “But not everything in there is miiiiiiiiiine! So discluding that stuff!” I love it so much I don’t even correct them. They’ll figure it out.

2. The other day, Anneliese was in her room getting dressed. she came out in a tealy-green, sparkly, long-sleeved tee, a brown corduroy skirt, and turquoise tights. The best part was when she excitedly pointed to her head and said, “My brain helped me and told me it would look cute!” She was all smiles!

3. Hearing Maxson quote ET. “You’re scaring him! You’re scaring him!” “ET phone hoooooooome.”

4. Watching Jeremiah (10) get giddy excited about our upcoming trip to Universal Studios, Orlando. That new Harry Potter part of the park is keeping him awake at night! He can’t wait to buy a wand and chocolate frogs! (He also has a list of friends who want him to bring back chocolate frogs for them.)

5. Anneliese woke up the other day at 6am. I told her, “Go back to sleep!” and she said, “I can’t! I’m too excited for school!” I’m so glad she loves school.

6. I love when Elia does her hair in a ponytail in the back, a ponytail on one side, and a braid on the other. While I don’t find it very attractive, I just love her for her eccentricity!

7. Hearing my kids talk about our upcoming move. They’re working through the sadness, but from what they say, they’re grasping hold of the positives of the move too. “We’ll get to have birthday parties with our cousins!” “No more heavy coats, toques, snow pants or boots!” “Bike-riding ten months out of the year!”

I do need solitude to breath, but these things nourish my soul.