It is the season to roll with the punches. Or should I say, the uncertainty of unpredictable fires. Even when one tries to, it doesn't work out. As soon as I predict a return home date, I'm wrong. The return home hours in the buggy's change ten or twelve hours on the road as compared to sixteen on the drive to the fire. In this case the HORSE SHOE 2. Or right when I've depended on a 9P phone call, I don't get it. Then three days later, he calls home at 7:30 and the kids finally get to talk to him! It's been on long dispatch. With an end in sight. I'm pretty sure Saturday, but you clearly never know. I'm not holding my breath...
...Because big things have continued to roll at the house, too. Our dog Jet is nearly big enough to come home. We're talking Friday or Tuesday, I think. The house we've called home for a long five years, is FOR SALE--listed Thursday and already shown. Here's hoping for a quick sale. Of course MaKenna turned four. E turned thirty-five and this year (the only year ever) I am thankful that I did NOT throw a big shin-dig. I wanted to. It felt like the right year. And then, the day after I was supposed to send out invites, he's gone. I dodged that ball.
So here we are. Waiting. Patiently. For more adventures to keep on rolling our way. We can handle it. We can roll with it.