And then there are the best laid plans.

We were on our way home Sunday evening. We were making good time, I was alert and ready for the next three hours of driving and a bonus visit with my sister since we could drive that far in one day leaving a mere three hours Monday morning to home.

And then the lights started flashing. CHECK ENGINE, CHECK ENGINE. Off and on, off and on with the temperature gauge suddenly at hot and hotter and just past an exit ramp. Next exit 7 miles. Unsure if it was better to drive as fast as we could those 7 miles or to slow the engine I struck a middle range and prayed hard. Those few minutes seemed interminable. I still don't know how long they took but the exit arrived and we drove off the highway aiming for the first parking spot in the first gas station. I made a mental note of relief as we passed the cluster of bikers thinking they might know something that would help. But first I went inside and asked the cashier if she knew of a mechanic....it's Sunday evening. Nobody will be open. To my surprise she made a number of logical and informed suggestions for me to check and then asked if I wanted her to help. Uh, yes please. As we're waving the steam and smoke away from my engine the two remaining bikers walked over yelling diagnoses and a third man strolled over giving the helpful directions to the hotel nearly next door where he was manager where he'd hold a room for me with a discounted price. Whew. The cashier sent me off with her mechanic's name and number, we grabbed our overnight bag and rain jackets and spent an unexpected evening in an adequate hotel with not much rest on my part. The kids slept of course. Morning couldn't come soon enough for me. By 7 am I was in touch with Pieman who had been working the night before, then spoke with CAA.

We decided I'd call the local mechanic. What a good decision!

Although in the end the news wasn't good--head gasket, water pump, timing belt replacement since it was overdue and the engine was in pieces anyway, a few other items--we were treated with every respect and kindness and generosity all day. The morning was spent at the mechanic's drinking his fresh coffee brewed just for me while we waited for the diagnosis and cost so as to decide if we should have him do the work or tow the car back to Canada or even to sell it to him and rent a car home. We decided he'd do the work and we'd come back to get the car next week. The sister I missed out on a sleepover with offered to drive the two hours to pick us up so we could still get in a sleepover and Pieman would pick us up the next morning (Tuesday and a three hour plus return drive for him). The afternoon found us walking to Subway and Walmart for lunch and some shopping, to Staples so the kids could play on their computers and then back 'home' to the mechanic's where Robin bought us ice cream and fudge and assured us our day would get better. Robin lives in the area and we chatted a little while she waited for her car to be worked on. She commented on how patient the kids were. I agreed and said they deserved a medal or some ice cream. Just before she left she said she had an odd question for us: what kind of ice cream do we like? She wouldn't even let me pay for it! I nearly cried at her caring of us.

So by the time we arrived home Tuesday afternoon I had left my car in a strange town in the care of strangers who were happy to look after it (for a small price of course--actually half what it would have cost us here in Canada), had enjoyed a lovely visit with my sister and her family and was very happy to be home even if the temperature change was drastic.

Pieman never looked so good.

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A little planning, a little reading as part of the planning, and a little playing here on the blog and the evening has passed pleasantly. The house will be quiet for the rest of the week and I know I will get more done before I meet my dear ones with fresh watermelon in hand to soothe their camped-out throats.

Who am I kidding? It is the grandparents whose throats and bodies will be camped-out. They too are my dear ones but it is the under-age crew I referred to at first. They will not be camped-out or swum-out but will be happy and tired and likely bug-bitten and sun-burned which will perhaps temper moods somewhat.

Before I arrive at their campsite I do hope to have a good part of our next year planned out. I also have time to work at scrapbooking and spend a good deal of time reading, meditating, journaling and praying. It might be a good idea for me to start with that and get to the planning later.

This is not a blog post of significance. But to those who might want to know what I am doing, here it is. Perhaps I'll write more another time.

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Life has been busy these past few weeks.

The last time I wrote I was looking forward to a few things: attending the annual Charlotte Mason education conference in Boiling Springs, North Carolina, wrapping up school before this conference, eating peas from the garden, visiting with my fabulous friends on the drive to and from the conference, sharing time with my parents in their lovely home.

The only thing left on this list is a visit with my parents.

While I've only had one or two peas from the garden so far, my friends are still fabulous even after many hours in a car together. And though the conference is over we have plans to get together again and since Charlotte Mason is always a topic of conversation as is school and education and children we have basically a conversation that never ends. ... Such is friendship. (Of course we don't talk only of education and children and C.Mason but I'll let you imagine the rest of the beauty.)

The conference was inspiring as usual. (Just one of the things I appreciate about Charlotte Mason and her educational philosophy.) To be in a place surrounded by hundreds of people who get education the same way I understand it can't help but be inspiring. To be close enough to these experts to learn so much from them and then to turn around and realize that I am able to help someone else. Wow. New ideas, new plans, hopes for this next year. I'm glad I took the time to think some of those out clearly while I was still away. It seems altogether too easy to fall back into the same patterns when I'm home. Many of the patterns I love and that can make it hard to see the ones I'd rather be rid of. When the disposable patterns are mingled with those I love it can also be hard to separate the two. But that is part of my growing.

K2 and CTM filled a clear bottle with water from the rain barrel yesterday in order to watch the mosquito larvae. It's fascinating. Thankfully the lid is on and although we don't know how much oxygen they need to survive we awoke this morning to find dozens of new little wrigglers and two more pupae. Ick. K2 thinks it not gross at all. Hmm. The animation in his face and voice is wonderful to watch and I love to hear his observations about this life form. Contrast it with the two minutes it took for a mother I was watching last week to teach her child to be afraid of flies. I tried to influence the little girl to wonder and watch but it was a lost battle before it started. She will likely never choose to observe mosquitoes grow from their egg mat into tiny transparent wrigglers then bigger dark wrigglers. Nor to figure out on her own that the straight wrigglers turn into round pupae and then into mosquitoes that were birthed in water yet are airborne, flying creatures.

This also is part of my growing as well as my childrens'.

I have a good life and am thankful.

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