Hello! Anyone still there might have gathered that I took a briefish hiatus while we were away for the summer in Colorado spending time with family.
Near the end of last year my parents bought a house in the mountains, at around 10,000 feet, surrounded on all sides by charming aspen trees and about a three-minute walk down the road to the nearest hiking trail. That is where the boys and I spent most of our summer.
My mother retired last year too, so we finally had her all to ourselves again. My dad still works and was there as much as he could manage, while my brother and sister, my sister’s husband and their beautiful, sweet baby boy spent a few weeks with us. And my three grandparents all came for a visit. Unfortunately, the altitude was rough on my grandparents, all of whom had to leave early because of it, and my father wasn’t able to spend as much time with us as we would have liked, but other than that, it was probably the most perfect summer I could have imagined.
Colorado, I discovered, is my kind of place. I specifically enjoyed the particular county where we were. I left it exactly once in the six weeks we were there, and only for a few hours before going right back. If you were to ask me what we did all day, I wouldn’t be able to say. There was a lot of running and bike riding and spending hours at the playground overlooking a perfect lake. We walked down the trail into town for coffee. We watched the boys climb rocks in the river. And we played a lot of Uno. The days drifted one into another and the weeks passed quickly without too much excitement, but very much contentment. It was a good summer. My parents found a good place for us.
Tomorrow Four goes back to school. Tomorrow I figure out how much work I did this summer and bill somebody for it. Tomorrow Eight is home with me while he waits to starts third grade on Thursday. Summer is over, the school year begins, and that is fine by me. After six perfect weeks in Colorado, life seems so lucky that almost anything is fine by me.