There

There is a small piece of blue painter's tape stuck to my mantle. On this tape is one word written in cursive: Home. It is the only blue thing in the room. It's a focal point when you walk in the front door. Almost an eyesore, really. But I don't have the heart to peel it off. Every time I see it, I remember Aidan saying, quite enthusiastically, "Thank you Mom for teaching me cursive!"

There is a foundation in our backyard for a shed that I'm pretty sure will dramatically change our life. Well, at least it will change the way we organize our stuff. There are hours of work left before we finish building the shed, but I look forward to the weekends of work ahead of us. I am happiest when immersed in a project, especially with George. We work so well together (we don't relax very well together, which is probably why we're always creating new projects).

There have been several occasions recently when Avery and I have been mistaken for one another. Not just on the phone, but in person. Once by George. I'm incredibly flattered, though I'm sure Avery does not feel the same. The confusion won't last long; she'll likely outgrow me within the next few months (which both excites and scares me).

There is a change in the air. A change and a charge that has me electrified with excitement. I don't even know what I'm excited about. Life maybe? The transition between summer and fall seems full of possibility. The changing angle of the sun's passage across the sky sheds a new light on everything. I feel illuminated. Illuminated and excited. It's a very good change.