The Green Hills Of Wiltshire, Or, Saturday Morning at 7:24am
It's supposed to be sunny this weekend. In Northern California, by this time, we've usually entered a season of uninterrupted blue skies. But it's been raining when we would have expected sun.
I plan to go to the nursery and buy herbs to plant. I am sure I am too late but I don't care at all. I like the process of walking the just-watered paths of nurseries before the sun is overhead, laying newspaper in the back of my dowdy RAV4 to carry home my plants, and pulling on new gloves. Maybe flowered ones. Sturdy Gals like to garden above all else.
And my son landed in Buenos Aires yesterday. First reports are cheerful.
I imagine you might say to yourself, "Enough with the abrupt announcements of overseas travel!" Sorry. I think I mentioned he wanted to spend the summer in Argentina, in comments, in the post where you all gave me such good advice about his possible path to making a living. Maybe I misremembered. That happens these days. In any case, he's studying Spanish and Argentinian literature this summer. And living the life of a young man in Buenos Aires. Go Piglet. Yes, I call him Piglet sometimes. Not his favorite nickname, but mother privilege applies.
I love it when my kids have a space in front of them threaded with opportunity. Maybe not a moment to choose or even know the way forward, but I imagine green hills that almost certainly have paths, somewhere, to the other side. Or chalk horses.
New to me is this. Someone else paid for his summer. A Princeton alumnus created a fund, in my son's department, for kids to learn languages. Feels like a step in which he funds his own creative adventures. Go Piglet.
As I said, I'm in good spirits. Jet lag is gone. Sun is shining. The birds are very loud. I hope you all have wonderful weekends. For those in the US, have a good long weekend, kicking off another summer.