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Well, we’ve now officially put the last of the holidays behind us! Phil has gone back to his “gig� with a jazz band in Montreal, John took down the Christmas lights this weekend, and I used the last bits of left-over turkey to make a pot of soup for lunch today. My mother, who is very British in some ways, used to tell us that the Christmas season wasn’t over until after Twelfth Night had passed. My measure is simpler. When the leftovers are finished, the holidays are done! All too often, both events happen at the same time. I don’t know why I always buy a far bigger turkey than we need.

In some ways it’s a relief to have the rush over and be back to our regular lives. I doubt if Connie would agree with me, though. She and Phil really hit it off while he was here. Now she talks about him all the time. It worries me that she is taking their holiday fling so seriously. I know she dreams of having a long-term relationship again, but Phil just isn’t ready to settle down. Sometimes I doubt that he ever will. It’s too bad. He is so good with kids, he would make a great father; creative and fun-loving, just like our Dad.

Oh well. As John keeps telling me, there’s no point worrying about Connie. She’s an intelligent, mature adult and can manage her life just fine without our help. Of course, whenever he says this, he usually goes on to suggest ways we could help her more.

Speaking of intelligent adults, I’ve signed up for an evening course in Creative Writing at the community college this term. Partly this is a tiny step toward the career I still hope to have in writing someday, in the far-off misty future when both kids are in school. Mostly, it will be an antidote to the hours of baby talk and grade-school-level arguments which make up too much of my conversations these days. Sometimes I can actually feel my vocabulary withering away. Classes start this week and I’m looking forward to them, although I’m starting to panic about the fact that I still haven’t started the reading assignments that are to be done in advance. Unfortunately, some things about being a student never change!

It sounds like John has finished bathing the kids, so it’s time for me to finish this letter and get back into parent mode. It’s my turn to read the bedtime story tonight. Perhaps I’ll make one up, instead. Considering what a tough critic Michael can be, that’ll be a real test of my Creative Writing skills!

Later;

Elly