summer might be here

Warm enough to kick up the cooler in the house today for the first time. Sunset is well after 8:30pm and it's still light on the  horizon at 10pm. Rick always says summer doesn't start until after the 4th of July.

The final term of my MFA began in June with a 10-day residency on campus. Lots of work ahead to finish my thesis by November deadlines. Lots of reading. Also taking the GRE in August and getting some PhD apps out into the world. Who knows what will happen next.

Rick spent all of June on the road working: Chicago, Long Island, Costa Mesa. Missed a bunch of birthdays, two climbs, Father's Day, and a couple of baseball games. Plus I missed him every single day. Now he's home and catching up on some climbing, yard puttering, and lots and lots of snuggling.

Today, we saw Prometheus (a disappointment) at the HD theater in the 21+ Living Room that started out with pre-show accordion performance from the balcony. Decadence got nothing on Cinetopia.

Short and sweet. Just like summer in the PacNW.

~ sherri

to utah

Coming to you, Utah. There may be some Utes in the making...

the momgoose

glimmers

There's signs of spring, glimmers of the cycles turning once again. Robins in the yard. Red finches and black-headed juncoes. Even a few doves, although they were re-thinking their return when temperatures hit freezing last week.

Rick made the first climb of the season today on Dog Mountain. Pretty sure sign spring is near.

School is still my primary focus. My work this term is non-fiction, not my genre of choice. I find myself writing about the twin girls that I relinquished for adoption when they were just 10-days old. It's been 27 years this spring, and yet when I write about those days that followed losing them, it feels just like the present.

I told Rick that I couldn't have written this essay even ten years ago. It must be time. I don't get to pick what comes up for me in my writing. I only get to choose whether to meet it with courage or step away again. Perhaps I've stepped away enough.

The Hoffman house shifted again. Becca moved out with some friends nearby. Two days later, Missy moved back in. Everyone is on their own path, it seems. Sometimes that path leads back to the old homestead. If I pursue the next level of education next year, I may find myself on that path exactly. Wouldn't that be interesting?

Love to you all.

sherri

p.s. Check out Sam's new blog that tells the story of the Christensens in Hawaii. We sure miss them!! samssurfinsummer.blogspot.com