Some things.

In no particular order.

I try to schedule only one or two meetings for work each week.  That keeps the load manageable in between homeschool and the pesky fact that everyone in my house (me included) likes to eat at routine times.  Plus the additional fact that managing a home takes an actual time allotment.  Who knew?  

At any rate.  Last week I broke my rule and had about as many meetings and interviews and appointments as there are days in the week. (More, actually.)  And I found myself writing late into the evening and dining out to “save time” and just all around being busier than I prefer.

I think the worst of the spring rush is over and now it’s just onto its regular sort of spring busy as the school year wraps up (only six more weeks to go!!! but who’s counting?) and we gear up for driving across the country (but somehow not through Kansas) and the grass starts growing and spring fever starts calling my name.

I did, however, get to write a couple of stories for Travelers Rest Here about some people I really like – such as a kind, patient and helpful realtor that attends our church – and a couple of brothers bringing club soccer to our neck of the woods.

On the soccer story I was writing about two young men in their twenties and I had a talented photographer working for us who was also in his twenties.  Despite the trendy streaks of purple I impulsively had added to my hair last week, I was certainly feeling my age.  I was feeling maternal pride for these three stellar young men doing good things with themselves.  No matter how much frankincense I roll on my wrinkles each night, I can’t hide that I am no longer a young woman.  I mean, I could definitely be the mother to some of those guys.  (Just the youngest ones though, come on.)  How’s that for instant mental crippling?

Speaking of rolling oils, I have no conclusive evidence if the frankincense is fighting the wrinkles or not yet, but I can tell you – I have been using a roller called Rutavala on the base of my skull each evening before bed and I’m telling you – it’s been so effective for solid sleeping and falling asleep quickly.  (That’ something an old woman would say, isn’t it?  Whatever.)

Maternal feelings aren’t bad. I’m not afraid of them.  I felt them again this weekend.  Saturday night we jumped in on a tradition that we’ve only had the pleasure of attending twice although it’s been going on longer than that.  It’s called the Raymond Awards and it’s a youth group event that has a group of students creating short films for a viewing and party patterned after the Oscars.  It’s a great excuse to get dressed up and the films are loads of fun, always full of talent and generally downright hysterical.

On the rare occasions that my children are all simultaneously clean and content, I take photos and stare at them – wondering how we have come this far.  How the babies I fed became the capable humans I know currently.  How I had any sort of hand in creating or molding or shaping all these varied people who share the same gap tooth or similarly fashioned nose or penchant for drama.  How I can hardly fathom what the next decade of our lives will look like when I’ll be staring at another set of photos.  (It might be that long before they willingly dress up again.)

Earlier this week some Lost Valley Ranch friends came touring through TR.  I’m endlessly infatuated with the novelty and the gift of having friends scattered across the United States.  (And one or two overseas as well.)  I love sharing our town with them and I love engaging in our regular lives with people we have met in our vacationing lives.  (Ranch Lacey is a pretty relaxed version of Regular Lacey.  Or maybe a more amped one.  I’m not a good judge for that, I guess.)

And, finally, I took my sons to an indoor trampoline park today.  It was a belated Christmas gift.  From two years ago.  Emphasis on the belated.  At this rate maybe I’ll officially throw London a sweet sixteen party when she’s twenty.  Which actually might be the key to slowing down time that I’ve been looking for all along.

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