As expected, the mid-point is a slump.

We're at the halfway mark and have been in London for about ten days now. I haven't blogged because, frankly, I haven't the interest. It seems my thoughts have been washed and wrung by all the travel and my mind is totally blank. Is it the travel? Perhaps it's the aimlessness I feel when I don't have enough work to keep my mind active. When things get hectic and too ongoing in everyday life, I sorely long for a holiday (like everyone else), but -- at the risk of sounding like a crybaby -- I'll admit that this several months has hinted at being too much of a good thing. It's great... but it's the blurry kind of great similar to a beach vacation: We came, we did what you do, I can't remember what, exactly, and then we left. We're still in the I can't remember what, exactly stage.

The children are homesick. Q has no interest in the magnificent Princess Diana playground just a 3 minute walk from the flat. Why? Because she doesn't have a friend to play there with. (E doesn't count -- poor, underrated little sister.) She's sullen and mouthy and flat-out defiant. E has become a mean little screamer, too. I don't blame them -- and, really, it's infrequent and slight, certainly comparatively -- but I can tell it's getting to them. We knew this would happen, and maintain that when it's time to return to real life, they'll fight that, too. But, regardless of how nice the accommodations and activities are, they haven't been home since August 3, and homelessness is hard. Poor little chooks.

I'm a bit blue. I don't get depressed, so I guess what I've got is a temporary funk. I'd pay real money to spend a day with a dear friend, one who already knows everything about me, who I could talk to without having to explain back stories -- a friend who speaks my language and knows me, unfettered by collegiate expectation. You know who you are, ladies, and let me tell you: you are valued and missed. Additionally, as I've mentioned, I have no work here. I'm inventing jobs for myself (camp counselor; activities director), but it's not the same as having actual responsibility. I miss work. My existence here has limited purpose and it gets wearing. Way back in August when we were at Mum & Dad's house, I mentioned that I really identified with Elizabeth Bennet needing to get out of the house. I do love a walk in nature -- it's so restorative! -- but, really, Elizabeth Bennet wasn't an athlete and neither am I. Rather, we share a desire to do something, anything, a spiritual vigor that requires movement wherever we can find it and a suffocation when we can't. Responsibility can be draining, but having none is worse.

I organized the first movie night for the students tonight (The Thin Man, because I couldn't get City Lights to stream), and we're having the Fall Ball this week. I happily share this family tradition with the students, in the hopes that they'll incorporate it into their own families one day, bringing silliness and closeness. It's easy to give it away to those who hold no expectation of it (it's those who stole it that I can't yet fully forgive).

No, it's not as bad as all that. It's lovely here. I could eat Kensington Gardens with a spoon and keep it on the inside. I do enjoy an urban life and London is a favorite city, but I don't know how I'd survive a long-term life in a city without immediate proximity to a wonderful park. Thank heavens we have a world-famous and much-loved park literally right around the corner. I drink it in every day -- the expanse, the fallen leaves, the squirrels, the swans, the air, it all feeds my soul. I smile at dogs there, and talk to God.

We have a bunk bed in our living room. Yes, I know. The only thing to do was to to make it into a fort. We bought some lovely floral fabric and ribbon on Portabello Road and made the cutest little playhouse you ever saw, certainly the cutest one ever on a living room bunk bed. We hung paper birds from it and have ordered some fairy lights for extra ambiance -- it makes all the difference when playing games in your imagination, you know.

Also, I've received some lovely comments from a few students that have really been unexpected and appreciated. Several weeks ago, a few of them said I'd be great in Young Women's, which surprised me in a happy way. The students are full of admiration for the girls, which is so helpful and means so much. And just last night, a darling student told me that I remind her of Elizabeth McGovern (who she only knows from Downtown Abbey, of course, but who I remember from way back in the day) -- I hugged her!

This is it for today. Next post: more effulgent!