Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Shortest Day
(a poem by Susan Cooper)
So the shortest day came, and the year died,
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive,
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - Listen!!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, fest, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Short version: We have no need or desire to stay in Houston but we’re not ready to be 2000 miles away from our kids.
Slightly Longer Version: We have never loved Houston and in the summer, we actually hate it. But we have had friends and work we liked (I came here for a job) plus it was an easy place to live because staying is always easier than going. It could have been much worse.
But now Mark is retired from the U and my work requires only that I have access to an airport.
When we took our month long vacation this summer, one of my goals was return home with a plan. Instead we returned home with a tan. But it was the pits of August so we fled to the hills of Austin to seek cold springs to swim in and drive some neighborhoods and before you know it, we were closing on a house.
‘Tis a small and modest 1971 ranch-style house, a fixer- upper not far from the action, less than 5 miles SW of the Congress Street Bridge. It is a transitional home, a place to be comfortable for a couple few years and then…who knows?
So the house in Houston will go on the market after the holidays and I will try not to go crazy prepping two houses and getting ready for Christmas all at the same time.
More to come.