Finding Home

A second chance.

Hello from partly sunny Vermont. Guess what? I have time today. I won’t hear about my manuscript for another eight weeks, and I’ve moved things around in our garage so I can park my car inside. Chores are done. So I if want to play my uke or take the dog for a long walk, or read my nephew Connor’s book The Swan Throne, there’s nothing stopping me. When’s the last time I wrote that in this blog? Hmm. Never!

This week we hope to sign papers to officially hand over Schoolside to the bank. I started working with a representative months ago because of our high medical expenses, and my labors and angst paid off.  There will be no foreclosure proceedings at 77 Depot. Now we wait for and sign and return paperwork, and, no pun intended, the deed is done. A huge pile of concrete taken off my back. Wouldn’t you feel lighter too?

This morning after breakfast club, my daughter and I went to Second Chance, the local hospital auxiliary’s thrift shop. She found a shirt and I found three oversized, warm sweaters that I didn’t buy. We decided that we’ll rotate Saturdays between the library and the thrift shop, so we have little adventures every weekend. You should know by now that it doesn’t take much to make our family happy.

You know that wonderful librarian job that I go to joyfully every week, my place of serious decompression and temporary haven from all things stressful? Well, the online embedded librarian program I developed with loving hands is under scrutiny for all kinds of reasons. It doesn’t matter anymore that it’s successful. What matters now is that it conforms. “Back inside the box and stay there.” That’s the message of the day. And I, your trusty writer, am definitely outside of the box. (I think it all started when I taught my girls to color. I showed them how to draw political tattoos on Barbie’s arms, and bubbles coming from Ken’s mouth saying, “Shall we skip?”) It’s all coming back to haunt me.

Anyway, I’ll do what needs to be done to keep my job, and I’ll probably even enjoy my job again once I’m on the other side of this, but I don’t have to like it right now.

I leave you with a happy image of Scout, my loving, sweet companion. When he was born, God said, “Your mission is to cuddle in the laps of your loved ones.” He’s acing it.

Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.









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Finding Home

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