I had been looking forward to telling you about the high-tech visits on our trip and their links to very ancient history. That will probably happen next week, but today my mind and body have been hijacked by a sudden life turn.
We are all fine. Everyone, except me, is healthy, but . . .
My husband's company just announced they will be closing the Salt Lake office. Employees were given two weeks, now one, to decide whether to move to Colorado Springs or be unemployed right after Christmas.
|Yes, it's pretty. It looks just like Salt Lake. Geography is not the problem.|
Like the rug that was pulled out from under us, we are still up in the air. We have eliminated the choice of selling everything and totally uprooting. With a family house that is paid for as well as sentimental and with grown kids we don't want to suddenly leave to their own devices, that just doesn't feel right.
That leaves either unemployment and a job search with COBRA and another insurance company to negotiate or possibly living two places at once with a rental in Colorado Springs and a lot of driving and flights back and forth.
Neither option is pretty, but again, comparatively, we are okay.
That said, this is taking a physical toll. Despite almost no knitting this week, both arms and my neck are aching with the tension. Husband is losing his voice explaining what's going on to colleagues around the world as well as friends reaching out to see how he is doing.
We could both use another vacation. A drive to Colorado Springs to look at the new office and get the lay of the land housing-wise may happen soon, but I don't think it will be refreshing.
It is a hike that people take their little kids on, and dates if they aren't sure they are hikers.
Basically, it's one of four or five hikes in the area that this old crippled lady can do.
I'm thankful my kids can slow down for me. I took a lot of pretty flower pictures.
|White wild geraniums an bluebells|
|more bluebells and a Columbine|
|pink wild geraniums and Jacob's ladder|
|pink wild geraniums and penstemons|
|I can never resist the dandelions.|