The BIG six

Well hi there. I tell you, this packing business is serious. And the cleaning, well, it has begun (and somehow will end by Saturday morning, don't ask me how).  Really and truly it all isn't so bad. It's the two active kiddos that want to be played with and held incessantly that makes it all so difficult. Good thing Jeremy's parents just drove into town. Debbie is on Ginny-holding duty all day tomorrow. No complaining allowed.

Well, that was a lengthy tangent because this post is NOT about packing or cleaning or moving. It's about the fact that today is Cinco de Mayo, also known as the day I came home from my mission SIX years ago.

You read that right. SIX!

I think I'm as shocked as you are. Except that at the same time, that mission feels like it happened a lifetime ago. Part of me really can't believe it's only six years ago. While the other part marvels that it was the equivalent of four missions ago (that's a year and half times four, in case you were confused). How did that happen?

If I had a scanner I would add some of my favorite mission pictures to this post (I can even still see the box I packed them in). But alas. Nothing is happier than blue skies and banana and mango trees in the background. Plus really and truly I have never been (and will hopefully never be again) so tan in my life as I was for the year and half I lived in Honduras. You should see it.

I had full intentions of writing a nostalgic post about that glorious time in my life. And the many many things I have learned in the past six years since then. But shoot, I tell you what, I am plum too tired to think that hard. All I can manage at the moment is this endless rambling. My appologies.

So I'll end with a happy Cinco de Mayo to you. And a happy six year anniversary to me.