Well it’s been another quiet year in Athens, Ohio, my home town.  Phil and I have the place to ourselves this year, which is both the good news and the bad news.  Greg has moved into a house across town with two of his buddies.  Like his brother before him he’s now a man living his manly life in his manly abode.  Rob’s house is along the walk to campus, so we can check out his Halloween decorations, note the condition of the lawn, drop off an interesting find from the second-hand store, etc.  Rob’s house, I don’t go into out of respect for Rob’s privacy.  (And, of course, fear of what I might find.) Greg’s house, I wouldn’t go into for fear of my life.  It’s definitely a Slumlord Special.  To get in the front door you would have to cross the porch, and looking at it you don’t know which boards will support your weight.

That’s OK; Greg’s a minimalist when it comes to creature comforts.  At this point in his life it’s amusing that he has one set of sheets.  “Really,” he said the other night as we had dinner together while all the Christmas decorations were up, “I don’t see why I’d need any more.  I washed them once and put them right back on.”  I was pressing extra household stuff on him.  Got enough glasses, Greg?  “I have a glass,” he said.  “I only drink water at home, so I just rinse it out and everyone knows it’s my glass.”

Rob’s fixin’ to fly the coop, and not only the town coop, but the whole country.  If his scholarship and job-offer plans come through, he’ll be teaching English in Austria and Germany over the next year, hopefully being back in Athens to take “the walk,” that is, the OU commencement ceremony in June.  He might well be abroad for the annual familyfests: Sandbridge Beach and Christmas with the Polands; the Reunion and Thanksgiving with the Campbells.  I try not to think about it.

We did have a spot of frenzy during our Beach trip.  It wasn’t the predicted wind speeds of 55 mph (borderline hurricane); it was predicted 10” of rainfall in a place where the only access road is only 6” below the water table.  Once we were safely away I felt like a weenie, but Dana had had quadruple bypass surgery back in the winter, and Ken wasn’t with us because he hasn’t spent a year at his new job yet, and Mom and Dad are in their 80s, so the ratio of able-bodies not-soABs was not giving me confidence that we could handle an emergency.  Adrenaline junkies we are not.  For the first time in 10 years, we left Sandbridge early.

As for me, what really floats my boat continues to be teaching at Summer Art Camp.  Our most popular week is still Wizard Summer School, where the campers make “magic” books and wands and hats and games and goblets a la Harry Potter.  Much fun.  Next summer we want to try a week of MythBusters activities (in an art-as-well-as-science sort of way).  And I’m counting on you to suggest activities, realizing that we can’t really do explosives…or guns…but surely we can think of some good reason to use ballistics gel (or its close cousin, Jell-o).  Remember the Mythbusters mantra:  If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing.    

I still enjoy the Boy Scouts, and the Medievalists, though when I go camping with these groups I insist on sleeping on a big Coleman air mattress.  No more foam pads.  I enjoy digging and planting in the yard, and in my parents’ yard too, though cranky knees and numb hands are the frequent results.  I can’t wait till spring to see my new daffodils! 

So this last quiet year has been a blessing and a treasure.  This annual review finds me giving thanks and sending out ripples of love to you all from here, the still center.  May the new year bring you all you need.