This past year we've spent a lot of time apart. School means a lot of time apart. We are coming home to each other with a desire for each other, with more knowledge of what makes us alike. That, I think, is why we suddenly all want to do the same things and do them together.
As I plan this school year, I feel not at all like I am puzzling out how to help children really get into things they need to understand. I'm not. I'm gathering resources for projects we're going to love doing together. We're all looking over the goodies, daydreaming about cold winter days spent sitting around talking books with each other. (It's been a chaotic enough summer, socially, that my next thought is, "And if anyone messes with those months of peace I'll ream them.")
It's good. Very good. If a year of school means that we from here on out don't take each other for granted, then I am glad we had it.
I am looking at the dining room table, the drawers near it full of electronics components and art supplies, the chairs waiting for us, and I see a very happy winter. Please come true, very happy winter.
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