Life in Arlington continues. School, work, Spanish, rest, rinse, repeat. We renewed our membership at our climbing gym and I am sore from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes. Colin is on Congressional Record as being officially nominated to the Foreign Service: his name in size 9 font on a list of many, we didn’t get to go to the Senate or anything. I hosted some gals this weekend for a bread workshop. I’m hoping they find as much enjoyment and therapy in the hobby as I do.
The move to El Sal creeps ever closer. They’ve invited us to fill out a housing survey, though we won’t know the results until just before we leave. New friends who received an English-speaking post have already shipped their sea freight and are down to their final few weeks in the States.
We are healthy enough and looking forward to the holidays. Our apartment was plagued with butterfingers over the weekend: a salad tong fell and broke, a knife dropped onto a bowl of hot soup, breaking the bowl, and a glass of eggnog and a glass of wine spilled at once all over a board game. At some point you just have to laugh.