Hello Old Friend

Wow, it's been a minute, as they say. I just read through all my old posts, which was quite nostalgic. Also, almost a little intimidating- I seemed to actually have something to say, at least at times. Like, I would read that stuff even if I was my friend and basically knew what was going on with me (which I essentially am, and do). But if you don't know, aren't my friend, or just like reading things you already know, let me update you. We've moved into a Tudor on the edge of the woods in Exeter NH. I'm not saying Tudor with a capital T to be snooty- I'm actually trying to be subtly self-deprecating, since I consider myself to be anti-Tudor, or at least, anti-pro-Tudor.  What I like about this house, is that it keeps the rain off, is at the end of a dead-end, borders some decent woods (if you ignore the intervening condo subdivision, like I do). What I don't like is that it garners remarks like, "Oh, what a splendid example of the Tudor Revival, old boy," and the like. I'm considering changing the color scheme from the traditional red brick, off white and brown beams to some seriously trippy technicolor rainbow. But that would take effort, so really I'll just leave it like it is.
There are 5 of us now, and things are going pretty well. Max is in 3rd grade, plays Pokemon and goes to Tae Kwon Do, and just won a Destination Imagination competition, qualifying for globals in Knoxville. I'm still not exactly sure what the hell DI is- I think it is some kind of secret, anti-parent puppeteering thing. Willa, 1st grade, goes to ballet when she can be convinced, narrates elaborate and intricate make-believe scenarios for hours at a time, and stands the hell out of her ground. Sam, 2 yrs old and in Montessori day care, mostly chills, at least when he's not crying for his mama. Mama does restorative justice circles in Lowell and Boston. And I'm a real life, buck-stops-here, attending, at Exeter Hospital, which is essentially as good as I thought it was going to be. Mostly saving lives and stamping out disease. I accidentally zigged when I should have zagged, said 'yes' when I should have said 'no,' and ended up as assistant director of the ER, which means I have to go to a few meetings a month, and get caught up in a little bit of drama that I otherwise could have avoided. Not too bad, except that I live in constant low-level terror that Wendy, my boss, will get promoted or move away and they'll try to look to me to be the director. Which I would politely decline. Now that I've rediscovered this, I'll maybe post again before another 6 years go by.