Community

Today in church the lesson was the good Samaritan and a sermon about being neighborly. Serving neighbors, who is your neighbor, etc.

And I was thinking similar thoughts last night. I haven't started volunteering regularly again since I moved. I'm sure there's a need, and that's something I should/want to do. And I will. But the question of neighbors and community is interesting to me right now. We live in the country, about equidistant from a number of towns. We church and do most of our business in St. Cloud. I work in Alexandria. Hubby works in Palmer (which is rather a small town with few services, etc.). Our kids (who are still theoretical) will likely go to school in Foley. Hubby's fam is around this area. Mine is scattered, though sister will be nearby in yet another town. So where is my community? Where do I set down roots? Making friends, establishing relationships, being a part of a community is an intentional decision. Where do I decide? How do I decide? I don't see geographic change in my future, so this is something that will take some thought.

Playing Chickens

Things are in flux at work -- in a good way. My freelance "career" is looking hopeful. And I admit, I'm getting starry-eyed -- or more accurately, dollar sign-eyed. And honestly, things at the Raybrink house could benefit from an infusion of dollars.

So how do I keep myself from counting chickens before they hatch? Yes, my merit raise is a sure thing and will kick in in a few months. But the freelance income and the other work possibilities are just that -- possibilities. And though I have visions of eliminating debt, bulking up savings, taking a fancy honeymoon and perhaps getting a new car, I have to be responsible. And, financially speaking, I am.

But it sure is fun to dream!

Since I've been engaged, people have been asking me if I plan to have kids, if I plan to keep my job when I do, how many I plan to have, what names I like, etc. So here's how it apparently goes ... when will you get a boyfriend? When are you getting married? Kids? What's after that -- when will I retire?

But anyway ... On Wednesday, Thursday and a little bit of Friday, a friend of mine had a 31-hour labor. Then they gave her a C-section. This after what seems to the casual observer to have been an unpleasant-all-around nine months.

Friday night, Sister left Nephew in my care for the night. And Nephew decided to have a screaming fit (one hour, then an hour after that ended there was another two hours of fun). He got a nap the next day. Guess who didn't?

So, no, I may never have kids.