Here's the art. . .
It's official. Our household is one short now. I took my daughter to the bus station this week so she could head off to college early and go on a five day hike through the mountains before classes start. Putting her on a bus wasn't the way I imagined her leaving for school, but we're driving up next week with her junk, so the bus made more sense. She arranged it all, and I tried not to take over. We got to the greyhound ticket booth to pick up the ticket she bought online, and I realized that I didn't need to speak for her anymore. She's got it handled. Well, sort of. She had made the reservation for July 18th instead of August 18th, so we were actually a month late for the bus ride she had reserved. But that all got worked out, and she rambled into her new college town with her backpack on like the legend of Bob Dylan. . .but looking more like Tina Fey in a feel good summer movie about camping. We're so happy for her!
Our son is feeling the weight of band camp on his sunburned shoulders. In movies, there's just a montage to show a band slowly getting better. But in reality, it takes time and practice practice practice, which they are doing plenty of. He's in the drum line, and they're sounding better everyday. One nearby neighbor to the school raved, "Do you realize it's 8:30 in the mother f-ing morning?"
High praise indeed.