Jamie Wakefield

Wendy and I are still up to our eyeballs in crazy. Yesterday was a funeral for my Grandfather who passed away this month at one hundred. This year also saw the passing of his wife, aged ninety-eight and my grandmother on my mother’s side at one hundred and five. It’s been a hard and busy year for my parents. After that we took the two and a half hour drive home, changed clothes and went to dinner with Wendy’s father and his girlfriend Nancy. A game of tennis broke out and twenty years of rust flaked off of Wendy’s and my skills. We still lost 3-6. Frowny face. I was eager like a puppy for two more sets but it was time for dinner. Today was install another air conditioner, drop the RAV4 off at the garage twenty minutes away, jogging, go shopping, drop off stuff at the charity place, pick up a painting we had had repaired, pick up a necklace Wendy had made, go shopping, pick up the RAV4, write this, prepare for four guests for dinner. Most days are just like that. At least, they seem tha

Our plane arrives an hour late, putting us in the middle of rush hour traffic out of Boston in our rented car. Four hours later we arrive home. We have had major renovations to the house done and they are awe-inspiring. Our contractor “The Kid” has done an amazing job. Like Wendy, he is into the little details and through e-mail and e-photos they have made a shabby little house into a dream home. Photos we have seen do not do it justice and we are blown away. Wendy falls asleep soon as it is five a.m. Madrid time. I am not ready for sleep and go talk with my parents for ninety minutes. When I come home, Doug has also fallen asleep and I wander around our home. Home is both places. When I drive back to Boston I will say “I can’t wait to be home” meaning Madrid. The next morning we are awake by five and working on the eves (again) by six a.m. The stuff in there breeds. We cleaned out the eves the last time we were home. Never mind, I’ll write that post later. Comments should be answered.