Are you relaxed yet?  Playing the piano in the evenings and reading novels while sipping tea?  Let’s see, your daughters are 14 and 18, so still at home.  Wow.  50 seems so much older than 37, yet I keep hearing how quickly our kids are going to grow up and leave home.  So will I be 50 before I know it.  Sorry, I was just writing to myself again, forgetting that you–50 year old me–are out there waiting to hear what I have to say. 

I hope that by then you have learned some kind of energetic rhythm, some pace of work and play that allows you to do both with gusto.  Now I’m slogging: working tiredly, playing tiredly, often both would leave me alone for a bath.  Gee, writing in this space brings out the complainer in me.  What is that about?  Perhaps I need to exert myself a little more in order to report on the joys of all of my exertions. 

I gave demonstration lessons in writing classes at VNHA yesterday.  What a blast.  I worked in the evening with Margaret, asking her what kinds of texts that the 1st graders (like Elenore) would like to hear.  Many of the books I held up she vetoed as “a baby book.”  Discerning reader!  Good think she’s not too old to enjoy picture books herself yet.

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