Closed and Accepted

Year 8.  The tradition holds.  Some breaded bites from the sea, the mulled cider and rum, the placemat quoting the freedom of fog.  The new boardwalk does not intrude, and is welcomed as such.  The waves crash on the rocks as ever, and the time to rest and enjoy the changing skies has come.

What a year.  The wedding and honeymoon pulled off within a month of organizing.  The return trip perfectly timed to avoid the hotel quarantine and set up the TRV, the Atlantic tour, pregnancy efforts and success, a UK incognito return to all the old haunts, and just this Friday, the much longer-for confirmation that the PR application has reached its terminus with the card is in the mail.  So much time wasted in agony, when in retrospect all timelines were hit just as could have been anticipated in the best of cases.  Still, impossible to overemphasize the relief when that final piece is in hand

Will this be the last year for this solo pondering on this holiday?  Time to make new memories together, as a family, goes the thinking, and why not. The plans unfolding so as to leave you wondering about a new house as the next step.  Something will unveil itself, and I very much look forward to seeing what it is.  At this time next year will plans be in place for Qatar and the World Cup?  Why not dream big and chase that too.  Keep the spirit going, says Willard, and I plan to do nothing but that.