Rhythm of Life

So, we're settled in -- as settled as we can expect to be in this season of transition.

I take the older kids to school every morning but Wednesdays, when Granddad gets to do the honors.  They ride the bus home from Sunnyvale Elementary and are dropped off at the front of the long, gravel driveway.   Chance the dog runs to greet them, and Julia does as well whenever she's outside.  The donkeys occasionally bray a welcome (or demand a feeding) as the kids walk up the drive.  After snacks, when the weather is nice, everyone dashes outdoors to play fetch with Chance or explore the back pasture or ride the zip line or hunt for eggs or get too close to the pond or snuggle their new pet bunnies (Snowflake, Monty, and Sniffles) ....

Later in the day I pick up the walkie-talkie (that's how we stayed connected on a 10 acre spread) and call, "Bald Leader to Blue 9, Gold 6, and Pink 3, time to come in!"  "Copy that Bald Leader!"  The kids tumble in the doors to homework, dinner, baths, and sundry evening activities.  They are loving life here, although definitely missing friends back in PA and feeling some concern about having to move again in the near future.  Jesse and Georgia really like their school, and Lucy enjoys pre-school twice a week plus a Wednesday "Grandmommy Day."  Julia simply loves life (and exhausts us).  She's crawling on tables, emptying drawers into the trash, toddling out doors when we're not looking, eating packets of silicon, and making her presence known through a loud loquacity that leaves us either laughing or angry, depending on the timing.

We graciously have been given free office space at a neighbor's place of business (ID Plates).  It's a warm community of workers, and they've welcomed us right in.  Several days a week I sit in a cubicle making phone calls and sending emails to current and potential partners, working on budgets and letters, hanging out on Facebook, and handling other issues.  Leslie continues keeping the home front happening, and several times a week we work together at the house or take the younger two girls out to breakfast.

My parents are living in their garage apartment.  Formally it was called "The Cowboy Quarters," but we've begun to refer to their space as "Mouse House" and ours as "Big House."  (As an aside -- we have way too many means of communication in the house.  There are four different cell phones with four different numbers, a land line, four walkie-talkies, three computers, and an intercom system.)  This living arrangement is going wonderfully well!  Mom and Dad/Grandmommy and Granddaddy have become a natural part of our lives (and we a part of theirs), with their comings and goings adding an enjoyable rhythm to the weeks.

In most ways we're living the good life.  (We'll leave the story of the odoriferous rotting rat corpse for another day.)  God's over-abundant faithfulness is evident on a daily basis, and the occasional overwhelm our Partner Development and Uganda to-do list is itself overwhelmed by the provision of our Father.