I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth.-Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Mona's Musings

June 28th, 2011

Living in England: The End of a Beginning

July 17, 2011, Antibes, France

LITERALLY THE LAST PAGE IN
MY EUROPEAN JOURNAL

Our finale trip from England to continental Europe is winding down. Dale has returned from Dubai and we’re enjoying our last two days here. Lying in bed, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine.

After a year of Intense Living — of Everyday-the-Extraordinary — I long for my bed, my kitchen, my drawers, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine, my friends, my family, our love. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the Remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting; worn out from all the growing. I just want to be Whoever I’ve Become in a Predictable Place with my Constant Honey.

We are not the only ones to mature this year. The kids have grown up. Our two youngest finished their very last university classes and I wonder: how do you mark reaching a summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a significant ending? By some trite reference to a beginning? At the same stroke that they are graduating from university, I am graduating from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment our baby girl will be married, Grandson Number Two (of Son Number Two) arrives.

But before embarking on another voyage of Discovery and Newness…I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal Home…where my backyard forest is ever-green and my Constant Honey and I sit still in our favorite chairs.

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Mona’s Musings with a Hint of Romance will continue with reflections on the places we have been and the places we will yet visit as well as romance at home sweet home. In addition to sharing our own marriage, I will introduce you to other relationships I admire for their vitality, authentic quality, and genuine commitment. As always, my hope is that Romantic Readers will find heart, hope, and help in these representations of the best kind of loving on earth.

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Where we’ve been this year: England, Scotland, France, Germany, Italy, Austria, Belgium, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Greece, Israel. Dale has been to Saudi Arabia, Dubai and Finland.

Where we are now: Washington State in the United States of America.

Our week in the South of France is winding down. Lying in bed with Dale, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine. 

After a year of Intense Living; of Everyday-the-Extraordinary, I want my bed, my scripture study, my journal writing, my Weight Watchers, my walking, my yoga, my kitchen, my drawers, my closet, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine AND dryer, my ward, my friends, my family. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting. I just want to be whoever I’ve become in a predictable place.

The kids grew up this week. Grant and Hannah finished their very last classes and finals at BYU. It is too monumental after all the homeschooling to even think of or write about yet. How do you mark reaching the summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a great ending? By some trite reference to a beginning?

At the same moment Grant left on his mission, we moved to Washington. The minute Nephi culminated, the kids left for school. In the hour Chris and Heather bought a home, I was across the world from mine. At the same stroke Grant and Hannah graduated from university, I graduated from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment Hannah will be married, grandson Number Two arrives.

Under-girding all the coming and going is Dale. Fresh from the grandest triumph of his career — a large, wildly successful partner-event in Dubai — he is positioned for rapid progress, as are each of my children. Am I? Heaven will have to push “go”. But first..

I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal, Home…

where the trees in my little backyard forest scrape the sky and turn colors once a year, just like they do every season, every year…after year…after year…after year…Our week in the South of France is winding down. Lying in bed with Dale, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine.

 

After a year of Intense Living; of Everyday-the-Extraordinary, I want my bed, my scripture study, my journal writing, my Weight Watchers, my walking, my yoga, my kitchen, my drawers, my closet, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine AND dryer, my ward, my friends, my family. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

 

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting. I just want to be whoever I’ve become in a predictable place.

 

The kids grew up this week. Grant and Hannah finished their very last classes and finals at BYU. It is too monumental after all the homeschooling to even think of or write about yet. How do you mark reaching the summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a great ending? By some trite reference to a beginning?

 

At the same moment Grant left on his mission, we moved to Washington. The minute Nephi culminated, the kids left for school. In the hour Chris and Heather bought a home, I was across the world from mine. At the same stroke Grant and Hannah graduated from university, I graduated from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment Hannah will be married, grandson Number Two arrives.

 

Under-girding all the coming and going is Dale. Fresh from the grandest triumph of his career — a large, wildly successful partner-event in Dubai — he is positioned for rapid progress, as are each of my children. Am I? Heaven will have to push “go”. But first..

 

I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal, Home…

 

where the trees in my little backyard forest scrape the sky and turn colors once a year, just like they do every season, every year…after year…after year…after year…Our week in the South of France is winding down. Lying in bed with Dale, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine.

After a year of Intense Living; of Everyday-the-Extraordinary, I want my bed, my scripture study, my journal writing, my Weight Watchers, my walking, my yoga, my kitchen, my drawers, my closet, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine AND dryer, my ward, my friends, my family. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting. I just want to be whoever I’ve become in a predictable place.

The kids grew up this week. Grant and Hannah finished their very last classes and finals at BYU. It is too monumental after all the homeschooling to even think of or write about yet. How do you mark reaching the summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a great ending? By some trite reference to a beginning?

At the same moment Grant left on his mission, we moved to Washington. The minute Nephi culminated, the kids left for school. In the hour Chris and Heather bought a home, I was across the world from mine. At the same stroke Grant and Hannah graduated from university, I graduated from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment Hannah will be married, grandson Number Two arrives.

Under-girding all the coming and going is Dale. Fresh from the grandest triumph of his career — a large, wildly successful partner-event in Dubai — he is positioned for rapid progress, as are each of my children. Am I? Heaven will have to push “go”. But first..

I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal, Home…

where the trees in my little backyard forest scrape the sky and turn colors once a year, just like they do every season, every year…after year…after year…after year…Our week in the South of France is winding down. Lying in bed with Dale, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine.

After a year of Intense Living; of Everyday-the-Extraordinary, I want my bed, my scripture study, my journal writing, my Weight Watchers, my walking, my yoga, my kitchen, my drawers, my closet, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine AND dryer, my ward, my friends, my family. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting. I just want to be whoever I’ve become in a predictable place.

The kids grew up this week. Grant and Hannah finished their very last classes and finals at BYU. It is too monumental after all the homeschooling to even think of or write about yet. How do you mark reaching the summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a great ending? By some trite reference to a beginning?

At the same moment Grant left on his mission, we moved to Washington. The minute Nephi culminated, the kids left for school. In the hour Chris and Heather bought a home, I was across the world from mine. At the same stroke Grant and Hannah graduated from university, I graduated from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment Hannah will be married, grandson Number Two arrives.

Under-girding all the coming and going is Dale. Fresh from the grandest triumph of his career — a large, wildly successful partner-event in Dubai — he is positioned for rapid progress, as are each of my children. Am I? Heaven will have to push “go”. But first..

I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal, Home…

where the trees in my little backyard forest scrape the sky and turn colors once a year, just like they do every season, every year…after year…after year…after year…

Our week in the South of France is winding down. Lying in bed with Dale, waiting for the birds and bells to signal a new morning, has driven me to start the day without them. In the midst of the Astonishing, I am suddenly overcome with the desire for the Familiar and Routine.

 

After a year of Intense Living; of Everyday-the-Extraordinary, I want my bed, my scripture study, my journal writing, my Weight Watchers, my walking, my yoga, my kitchen, my drawers, my closet, my music, my chair, my grocery store, my washing machine AND dryer, my ward, my friends, my family. I feel like I cannot take but four more days of the remarkable – and indeed, that’s all that is left.

 

I am sitting on the couch in Scott’s villa/flat, looking through the open shutters — the French windows – out onto the neighbor’s roof and those beyond, a pale sky dawning on another day in the paradisaical Riviera. It’s the ideal setting for reflecting, but I’m tired of reflecting. I just want to be whoever I’ve become in a predictable place.

 

The kids grew up this week. Grant and Hannah finished their very last classes and finals at BYU. It is too monumental after all the homeschooling to even think of or write about yet. How do you mark reaching the summit? A flag? A banner? A plaque? How do you signify a great ending? By some trite reference to a beginning?

 

At the same moment Grant left on his mission, we moved to Washington. The minute Nephi culminated, the kids left for school. In the hour Chris and Heather bought a home, I was across the world from mine. At the same stroke Grant and Hannah graduated from university, I graduated from Europe. And come this summer, at the moment Hannah will be married, grandson Number Two arrives.

 

Under-girding all the coming and going is Dale. Fresh from the grandest triumph of his career — a large, wildly successful partner-event in Dubai — he is positioned for rapid progress, as are each of my children. Am I? Heaven will have to push “go”. But first..

 

I need Home: quiet, gentle, normal, Home…

 

where the trees in my little backyard forest scrape the sky and turn colors once a year, just like they do every season, every year…after year…after year…after year…

Hint of Romance

Homespun romance is the most beautiful of all.

What did you think of this musing?

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Discussion

  1. Debbi says:

    . . . enjoy it dearest. Treasure every moment. You are good at that, I have no doubt that you will revel in it.

    But . . . I cannot imagine you will have a chance to become complacent. You’ve been in a kiln. And you are on the cooling racks now. But that is not your destination.

    Love you.
    Debbi

  2. Sara Lyn says:

    I know this is in no way the same, but I have to say coming home from our almost four week trip last weekend was just as wonderful as being on our trip. :) It has been so nice to be able to enjoy being home again. It’s my favorite place.

  3. renee says:

    Wonderful Life Lived ! And to return to the Northwest at the most fantastic time of the year…summer-bliss! Enjoy your home, family, friends and all things familiar–When and where is the wedding?
    Much love and happiness…
    Renee

  4. Bri Z says:

    We look forward to some time at home-sweet-bluehouse with you! Savor the recuperation time! Remember, the Lord does give us time to rest before the next growing period. Alma, between one great mission and another “returned to his own house at Zarahemla to rest himself from the labors which he had performed” (Alma 8:1). May rest well in your “own house” from the many labors which you have performed this last year. We love you.

  5. Ellenor Abeln says:

    iT HAS BEEN WONDERFUL FOR YO TO WRITE THE MUSINGS N BEutiful decriptions of ci ties, country and more. But ,ore beautiful to have you home and looking forwrd to seeing you. Love,AND Prayers, Ellenor

  6. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE how you find romance in the EXTRAORDINARY as well as the EVERY DAY! It is truly INSPIRING! :)

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