Almost mid-day on day 3 at home.  Julia is still asleep.  I thought she had no jet lag/long day travel effects at all.  She seemed to go to bed at relatively normal times, wake up pretty early and go-go all day.  Not sure what switched but she has finally crashed.

I’ve been crashing for three days!  I wake much too early and want desperately to nap midday and then crave bed by 9.  During the last two days, I’ve gotten out of bed hoping that I could climb back in as soon as possible which is something I haven’t felt for a long time.

And I am grateful that I recognize that the last time I felt that way was for emotional, not physical reasons.  Those physical reasons fade quickly.  Blessedly quickly.

Today, I opened my eyes around 6, got out of bed a half hour later and have been useful all morning.  I feel like reading, writing and cooking.  I am devouring the fruit we picked up on Thursday morning.  I was hoping to get to the farmers market this morning and do some outdoor chores before going to a gathering this evening but with Julia sleeping so late, who knows what we will get to.  And it doesn’t matter.

Yes, happy to be home, sitting in all the comfortable places in turn that are appreciated anew.  The weather, however, has been sort of awful and thus no garden indulgence.  A few days of coming storms punctuated by rain and humidity in the triple digits.  The clouds of yesterday rolling into the city rivaled the coming of the Dark Lord in HP.  Yes, we are still immersed into the Wizarding World.  We watched Order of the Phoenix a day or so ago—oh, gosh, I don’t remember if it was Thursday or Friday.  I’ve kept Julia away from the darker years up to this point but after the studio tour, she is hell bent on seeing and reading everything.  And I can’t blame her.  Considering the movies that are out now labeled as PG-13, the HP movies are almost tame.  She has seen a few movies with her classmates that I would have kept from her with no adverse reactions.  I guess it is time to ease up on her viewing and reading.

She has sneaked reading some of the last HP book on her own.  I asked her not to read further, and this was months ago.  I secretly smiled at her initiative.  The books are on our shelves and she searched what she wanted out.  It wasn’t too long ago that she announced that I had a lot of books on the bookshelves.  I corrected her.  We have a lot of books and her eyes opened very wide at that thought.

This morning this sun is out.  Well, out and in.  Now out again, quickly followed by disappearance.  It is cool. I’ve turned off the AC and opened all the windows.  Breathe.  It feels like bursting out of a nurturing cocoon into light.  With the rain of the last days, we’ve not seen any neighbors and apart from our airport welcome and one meeting on Thursday, we’ve been alone.  Alone, inside and separated from the Madison world by rain and the AC.

It reminded me of the times of great change—leaving my parents house, moving in with David, bringing baby Cheshire home, bringing Julia home, moving, after David died when everyone went home—when only the essential self/selves are to be reckoned with.  This is not such a time.  I am only nursing a travel hangover—why did we travel, where did we go, what did we see, was it useful, did we grow, why come home, what is home, where is home, could it be somewhere else, should we travel next year, go away for even a long time, go for a year, could I do that, can we do that together, can I figure out Julia’s travel education, what will I do as we travel, and what of mindful circle, what of teaching, what of the community I want to expose to that which has been so beneficial to me. So many questions.  A friend emailed expressing the hope that I had gained some clarity on a thorny question. Perhaps on that one small question, I have a little clarity, but that clarity is quickly muddied by all those other questions.  I will let it all wash over me.  Sit with those questions.  Not expect answers immediately.  Maybe ever.  Just breathe into them and take a step into living them.