Two lives, three lives

What a dual life I lead here.

I travel with my family, Leathermanman, The Bean and the Pumpkin. We do incredible trips, the kind of thing which I've saved up for, looked forward too, longed for. It's been about one a month. And little excursions here in between, as visitors come and go. I'm sociable, travelling light, talking with precious friends and family, or meeting new people.

August - England by car.
August - Germany by plane.
September - Spain and France by hire car.
October - Irelend by car, with visitors.
December - Germany, England by plane.
January - Amsterdam weekend, by plane. SOLO
February - Austria, by plane and hire car.
March - Turkey, by plane and bus.

Then I'm home, being a housewife (dang!), cleaning (yes it's small, but high rotation), shopping (usually at Lidl, also the English Market or Dunnes, Tesco), washing (drying it all on one small rack, inside all year) reading online (papers, blogs, emails), knitting (sometimes, not enough), dropping and collecting children to their (minimal, really) activities. And being a lot silent, in a weird kind of solitary confinement. And speaking to other mothers from school, my tribe, a lovely group, what will I do without them? But it's one perspective on a place only, not the work-one I'm more used to.

Then there's our third life: our house in Elizabeth Street, the garden, the studies, the friends and family we have there. The steady, child-rearing, steady-being road ahead, the road behind. The road I'm in no hurry to resume, but know I must.