20150429.0709

Things go more or less well for me and mine. Yesterday saw me plow through three classes' assignments, and while there is another assignment waiting for me to grade, the larger grading burdens are now set aside--and thankfully. No more freelance work is on offer at the moment, which is of mixed benefit; I will not have the freelance money coming in. I will have a bit of time, though, to attend to some of my conference responsibilities, with which I have been all too lax of late. Too, the weather around Sherwood Cottage promises to be better today, which will mean that the house can be open to light and air, and so I will not have to pay for so much of either as might otherwise be the case. There might be some opportunity to take a walk, as well, which Ms. 8 will appreciate--as might the Mrs., depending on when such a thing might happen (she works this afternoon).

My circumstances closely mimic those of last year at around this time. I am not as far ahead of things now as I was then, which is less pleasant, Ms. 8 sleeps her toddler sleep (she does toddle about, so the descriptor is appropriate) in another room, and the Mrs. slumbers, herself. The division of labor to which our schedules then conduced continues to work well for us; after a year, we have figured out a few things. Doubtless, we will learn more as more time passes and we pay attention--and Ms. 8 certainly commands attention. She enjoys it quite a bit, in fact, although whether it is because young children tend to do so or because she has inherited something of the performative bent common to at least one branch of her ancestry, I am not certain.

I am certain that there is such a branch, though. I have mentioned my great uncle before--usually in association with some lewd comment or another. While the way in which he was known to the family is as it is, the way in which he was best known to the world was as a musician, one who in decades past played mightily and well with luminaries of an older musical world. He was often on stage, and often at the center of the stage, and in all honesty, he was not always gracious about sharing that place. Coming from a family of musicians as he did, and from circus performers at some remove, the pleasure in performance makes sense in him--and because Ms. 8 derives in part from those same roots, it makes sense to me that she might well take a similar pleasure. But that is, at present, only supposition.

What is not supposition is that my family looks to have a decent enough day today. There are tasks to which we can turn our hands, and we can hope that news we have awaited will come at last. Even if it does not, however, there is much to do, and there is some joy in doing it.