I’ve been writing in a paper journal since May of 2017, after I was inspired to do so by my first hospice patient. She told me she wished she’d been better about keeping a diary, and subsequently was delighted to hear I’d started my own. “Keep at it, you’ll be glad you did,” she said, and I have, for the most part. I was diligent about writing daily for a while before petering out to a once-or-twice-weekly update, but I haven’t given up.

Like blogging, the longer I go between journal writings that more difficult it seems to dip back in, but both efforts are forgiving: if a page gathers some dust, so be it. It’s always there waiting for me.

Summer has been flying by, we’ve already packed so much in it’s hard to believe we still have August to go. John’s parents, our family, and John’s brother’s family went on a rafting trip down the Rogue river at the beginning of the month. Our foursome took a very long and very hot road trip to the Grand Canyon, staying in a remote ranch perched on a broiling but beautiful desert hillside. This weekend we’re going camping, our second trailer outing of the summer. The sunshine and long light-filled evenings feel like a daily gift, something to soak up and hold onto for dear life when the inevitable February doldrums arrive.

When we’re not on the road, I work mostly in the mornings, from the couch or a coffee shop. The kids spend their time watching YouTube, playing basketball in the driveway, crafting weapons out of plywood, devouring endless amounts of food, and arguing with one another. John comes and goes, sometimes working from his desk in the living room and sometimes out in the shop.

It’s an awfully good season of life in so many ways. Imperfect, of course — I would love for there to be less arguing, and for the one inside cat to stop peeing on the carpet — but there so much to be grateful for. I can see it in that journal I should write in more often, the pages and pages of not-particularly-notable moments that add up to a spectacularly unspectacular existence, a gloriously humble and happy home.