I sent letters to the attorney general, the senators, and my representative. I consulted the lawyer who has already sent a letter to the alleged new owner. In the meantime, I am packing boxes in a haphazard sort of way — trying to figure out where I’m going. It’s no use in guessing. I must just accept that waiting is the only option left to me and I should do it with as much dignity as I can muster.

I think what I will do is pack up the house except for the essentials and go visit my grandparents in Sacramento. I’ll have someone check the house for notices on the door. Worst case scenario: I’ll receive a notice and have to fly back in a hurry. Best case scenario: I’ll escape the interminable waiting visiting my fantastic grandparents.

When I talked with Paul, he revealed that fishing isn’t going as well as expected and to not depend on a large chunk of cash when he returns. Result: no trip around the states. I know that I try to force things sometimes and I believe I was trying to force this event. It took me about two minutes of being disappointed and then, what do you do? Move on.

I believe what needs to happen is to apply Charlotte Mason’s method to my own life: don’t worry about results and focus on habits instead. These are the habits I want to live:

1) flylady the house; cleanliness and order should surround my family 2) pray, exercise and walk 3) have coffee and reading time with Paul in the mornings 4) homeschool the girls: math to perfection, read a variety of great books and summarize them, write a good deal, and study languages, music, art, handicrafts, and nature 5) continue writing and marketing what I write, sell articles to magazines, develop a new blog on Charlotte Mason’s ideas, continue writing about a family’s quest for the timeful life, develop this blog into chapters of a book, complete the novel.

If I can be diligent in making these habits routine, I’ll move forward. I’ll live an authentic life spending time at what I believe to be most important.

Of course, there are endless interruptions to these efforts: there’s a move, kids get sick, an adventure arrives, an opportunity knocks …

but life is the interruptions.

I can’t let my ambitions replace the enjoyment of each moment. If I try to muscle the obtaining of goals, I’ll lose something precious. A moment with myself, my husband, my girls, God … life is strung together by these units of time. I have to live them fully without rushing or they’ll be gone, gone, gone forever.

Here’s a favorite song of mine by Jack Johnson. I love the phrase, “gone be the birds if they don’t wanna sing” since I try to force things instead of just enjoying them.

Gone

Look at all those fancy clothes,
But these could keep us warm just like
those.
And what about your soul? Is it cold?
Is it straight from the mold,
and ready to be sold?

And cars and phones and diamond rings,
Bling,
bling, because those are only removable things.
And what about your mind?
Does it shine?
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?

Gone, going.
Gone, everything.
Gone, give a damn.
Gone,
be the birds, when they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people, all awkward with
their things,
Gone.

Look at you, out to make a deal.
You try to be
appealing, but you lose your appeal.
And what about those shoes you’re in
today?
They’ll do no good, on the bridges you burnt along the way.

And
you’re willing to sell, anything?
Gone, with your head.
Leave your
footprints,
And we’ll shame them with our words.
Gone, people, all
careless and consumed, gone

Gone, going,
Gone, everything.
Gone,
give a damn.
Gone, be the birds, if they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people,
all awkward with their things, Gone.

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