Oh my word, our friend Maribel is in labor and I gotta get my rear in gear and finish that baby blanket. I was putting the binding on last night, got halfway done, and realized I had been putting it on inside out. You know what? I don't care. I cannot take it out and do it over again. I will pretend it is the new style.
In other news: there are 6 more days until we leave for the States for vacation. This means in six days I will be able to go to a store for something I need, and not come home empty handed. I can think in my head "hey, I would like to buy such-and-such" and I will know that the store has it. It means I can think to myself "i would like this piece of clothing" and I will go to the store and they will have it. It means smooth freeways, heated buildings, karaoke, Powell's books, Portland rain, snow for Christmas, an indoor swimming pool (possibly), my family, my best friends, my first half-marathon, and English, English, English.
On the flip side, it also means missing my friends here, no students, no Spanish worship songs (except on CD), no sun (well hardly any), no running on dirt roads, no Lucy, none of this wonderful food, no palm trees, and no seeing familiar faces everywhere I go in town.
Over the past ten years I have learned it is very possible to have your heart torn in two, and to have each side deeply planted in two completely different places/countries/homes.