Well, the scent of lilacs is wafting through the window in our new study . . .









. . . which we've only begun to move into, really:









It used to be Emma's room, and she never liked the bookshelves, which I never understood. (I guess they take up room - and it's a small space to begin with.) I'm looking forward to filling them, and to getting those pictures on the wall. (The oval one is a picture of Emil, Sr., when he was a baby. It's a funny picture because it looks so thoroughly like him, and his expression is so mature. Puts me in mind of cherubim, or something - he's a baby, but not a baby. I'll try to get a picture of the picture some time when the light is better; it's getting dark as I write this.)

I'm happy about the lilacs. When we planted them, I planned for the perfume to come in through the sunroom windows (which it does), and having the fragrance in the study is an added bonus. I'll appreciate it tomorrow when I'm calculating final grades!

It's nice to have the study, and nice to have the lilacs and to watch the yard taking shape. However, it's also a little unsettling, and difficult to get too comfy, since we're still not sure whether we'll end up moving or not. Today, I really don't want to move. It feels too much like we'd be crawling back to someplace we've already been, with our tails between our legs, or something.

I'm feeling totally conflicted. I love my job, but the job market in Lansing is worse than pathetic . . . and compared to here, the atmosphere is very downcast. But staying here means working like crazy to make ends meet - and it also means that the ends will be far apart for a while, as we figure out how to work like crazy. Sometimes I think we should just go. If only it didn't feel like defeat . . .

In any event, probably we won't make any decisions for a few months, as there are some irons in the fire that will take until July to reveal themselves. And then even if we do decide to go, we'll have to sell the house . . . which could be a lengthy process, the way the housing market is going. And then, too, waiting until July may not even be wise; interest rates are trending up and housing prices are trending down (which will help when we buy but not when we sell).

At any rate, doing nothing, or doing very little, is harder for me than anything . . . I'd almost rather act impulsively and rashly than not act at all. In the absence of concrete action, I'm worrying myself to death adding up numbers and then adding them up again . . . looking at houses online and calculating mortgage payments, and thinking up things to do to make this house ready to sell - none of which we can do at the moment because I've still got a bum toe and Emil has been sick all week . . which just pushes me back to the numbers, alas.

Ah, well. I suppose I'll go smell the lilacs while I may . . .