A love once new has now grown old.
When I was a little girl, my mom was pretty good about having us write in our journals. Usually on Sunday we'd lie around on the trampoline and write about our week, once we were old enough to do our own writing (and drawing). Before we could, she would write while we dicatated.
It started a sort of a habit for me. A compulsion during some periods of my life, and at others a nagging feeling in the back of my brain for not doing it. That's kind of where I am now.
In the old days I had no shame in an entry that looked like this:
Jan. 5, 1989
Wow! A lot has happened since I last wrote.
End of entry.
And now, so much has happened since I last blogged that I'm not sure where to start. So here's a list for now. Each of these could be a post of their own.
-Van and I flew to Utah from Brooklyn on the the world's longest, screamiest flight (sorry everyone, especially Van)
-We hung out with my family for a bit (including lots of dinners with my Grandma) waiting for GK to drive the enormous truck hauling a car across the country- alone
-We went to Jackson Hole to cheer on my dad, sister and three brothers in Lotoja (206 mile bike ride from Logan to Jackson Hole. Amazing!)
-Walking down the streets of Jackson, Van threw himself off of GK's shoulders onto the cement landing smack on his head (scariest moment of my life, followed by an afternoon in the ER and a miracle-- no bump, no bruise, no scratch)
-We drove to California for a fun filled week at the beach with GK's family
-We flew back to Utah for my Grandma's funeral
-Now we're back in California waiting to hear if all of GK's job interviews have paid off, because if Van plans on being such a dare devil, we need health coverage.