This week we were consumed with wrapping up school and packing up the juggernaut that is our kitchen. Both of these tasks have made me cry. I’m feeling very sad to leave our lovely, warm Waldorf community, and I hate moving so much I want to click my heels and reappear some time in mid-July. Last night I had a dream that I tripped going down our stairs and broke my ankle, and was therefore exempt from any further packing, sorting, or organizing. This was not a nightmare. Not at all. There were a few choice items that we reserved…
Last night the girls had their first-ever piano recital. We enrolled them in lessons back in February, and every Thursday a lovely Hungarian woman comes to our house and works with each of the girls for half an hour. Both girls seem to really enjoy their lessons, but Hannah has been much more eager to practice, learn pieces, and even create her own compositions. Ayla has definitely phoned it in when it comes to rehearsing on more than one occasion, but she enjoys playing and loves that she’s learning the piano.
Yesterday our family headed way, way up Bathurst Street to the Toronto Waldorf school where we took part in a ceremony with both the grade three class from our school (of ten kids) and their grade three class of thirty!
A week ago we planted our vegetable garden at the Niagara house. I’d started some seeds earlier in the week, and they’d sprouted just as we were heading out-of-town, but of course there was still much work to do on our beds before we could put the little plants into the earth.
I’ve been blogging for six years. SIX YEARS! I can’t believe how far I’ve come from when I first started writing here. When I began blogging, I was newly single after a tumultuous four-year relationship hot on the heels after separating from my ex-husband. I was just about to max out a credit card on a trip to Paris, all by myself. I can see you rolling your eyes and shaking your head – you’re right, things were messy. So messy, but I was so filled with hope.
