. . .

tonight was a “i’m home” kind of night. the kind where i walked home from church, waved at little people and a daddy in the yard of a yellow house, came home and helped with cutting tomatoes and getting dinner started. the kind where everyone ended up sitting at the kitchen table and laughing louder then anyone should ever be allowed to laugh (welcome to the Sinclair house!). the kind where we all sit on a double bed, crowded around a small tv, and watch the Sinclair Family Concert that was put on a few weeks back. the kind where i can smell freshly cut grass, basil straight from mumsie’s garden, and the smell of siblings feet while we all sit so closely on the said bed.

it’s the kind that i love and one of the reasons i wanted to come home so badly.

most are in bed now. a guitar is playing. three boys are “studying” in the kitchen. a sister is working on sewing in her room. a mumsie is on the couch reading the girls history book. and a daddy just came home from a class at a local university.

ahh. all is right in the world.

i have a flexible nine-to-five job. i definitely have one piano student and a few more who are interested. there are projects around the house that need to be started, dance lessons that should be attended, and piano that must be picked up again. and there are the “extra” things — sunday evening college meeting, tuesday evening Bible study, and any extra church gathering. that’s without me actually doing anything at church besides my daily office duties.

and i thought life in the north country was slow, simple, and relaxed?

someone give me a shot of espresso and keep them coming. i may need it.

: )

One thought on “. . .

  1. Wow…. still no comments? I thin this is the longest a Louissa entry has ever gone without any comments!! Usually it lasts about three or four hours… I guess I’ll just leave this simple comment out of pity, and because you still haven’t told me if that picture of “Betty” was you or Brietta.
    : p

    You’re one of the few people who can write about the smell of someone’s feet so pleasantly. It’s like those commercials for medicines where they list the side effects in a nice happy sounding voice, “Side effects may include influenza, eye itching, early death…”

    It’s a rare gift.


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