Now Playing: Tenth Avenue North, "Love Is Here."

Normally I'd avoid this sort of post, but today was good enough that it could bear repeating. Background information: As of last night, I was certain that I'd be going to Michigan in September.

This morning I went to the gym for the first time in awhile. Since my membership runs out at the end of May, I've made a pact to go to the gym three times a week; we'll see if it happens. Not that I don't want to, but it's difficult to find the time. Today I listened to the second sermon on Ruth in a series by Pastor D, which finished with the idea that though our lives may appear to be tangled and confused now, soon we will look at them and see God's love clearly emerging from the mess.

It was a lovely morning, warm, sunny, with the promise of strong wind later in the day from the south. Exercise definitely helped morale. I went to work at half ten, and, in an odd coincidence, we had a very slow lunch rush--Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays are generally quite busy.

After work I had time to take a shower and was just toweling myself off when Sarah rang. She came over at about ten past three, and we drove my family's minivan down to the Ys' house. Sarah had the idea that we should volunteer to play aunt this afternoon so that Stephanie could have some time to herself.

Stephanie warned me that Raychel and Joseph were hyper because they'd heard we were coming, and she wasn't exaggerating. As we pulled up next to the kerb, we were greeted by two extremely enthusiastic children, jumping up and down and throwing maple seeds in the air. They dragged us into the back yard to see their "tree house" (under a juniper tree) while Stephanie got Renee up from her nap. Then it was sandals and sunscreen all round, and the kids piled into the minivan.

We drove over to Boomer Lake--just across the street, really, but "the street" happens to be a highway, and I didn't feel like trying to scamper across it with three small children. We went to the playground and spent most of our time there. Some thoughtful person had poured an empty concrete slab near the playground, so Raychel and Joseph drew with chalk, and I told Raychel part of her favorite story (involving a river of lemonade and chocolate bushes). Photos are here.

We kicked a soccer ball around, swung on the swings, and climbed on the playground equipment. Renee and Joseph climbed up the slide. Joseph wanted to walk to the bridge, so we walked over to the bridge and spent quite awhile watching the ducks. A couple of guys threw some bread into the water, and we watched the ducks eat. Joseph poked at spiderwebs with a toy. Raychel dropped her flip-flop into the lake by accident. Renee squealed whenever anyone walking a dog went past.

Then it was back to the playground for snacks: grapes and lemonade. The wind was so strong that it threatened to blow the cups away, even when they were full of liquid. The kids played on the playground. Renee decided that her favorite thing in the world was to go across the monkey bars with me holding her by the hips, then for me to roar at her in order to scare her into going down the slide. "Again! Again!" So it was again and again, and Raychel joined in the fun. The child has quite a squeal when roared at (upon request)!

Drenched in wind and sunshine, we drove back to the Ys house at about five o'clock. Somehow the kids had managed to keep all their energy, and Stephanie immediately had chaos on her hands all over again. We said good-bye and went back to my house. Sarah left. I changed clothes for going out to tea tonight: it's my grandmother's birthday.

My parents and I went out to my grandmother's house, picked her up, and drove her over to Freddie Paul's, a steakhouse on the east side of town. It was quite a pleasant evening. My grandfather told us stories about his experiences in World War II, and the adults talked about family, gardening, politics....

Outside, the sun began to set. We were home by about eight o'clock. My father and I had the last in a series of long discussions about grad school. Hours and hours we've spent talking.