Adding a little color.

I am determined to keep some semblance of normalcy in my life at this stage of great uncertainty, so I signed up for The Color Run Twin Cities when I saw a friend had run the one in Seattle and it looked incredibly fun. I can say it's probably the second-most fun of any race I've run. First place has to go to the Disneyland Half Marathon, which I've done twice.

Yesterday was very hot (a high of about 92) and we started near 10AM, but as this "race" isn't even officially timed, it wasn't a big deal. Yes, people take their time, and I heard a few people talking about turning around and doing a few parts again...I'm talking about the "color zones," where volunteers with squirt bottles (or sometimes their bare hands) color runners up with dyed cornstarch. Each zone is a different color, so we ran through orange, then yellow, then pink, then blue. At the end of the run, you assemble in front of a stage where they pump dance music, and every 15 minutes, they count down to a "mass color throw," where each runner opens an individual packet of an assorted color and throws it into the air simultaneously. I've never seen or experienced anything like it. It's an art project on a massive (19,000 runner) scale, and everyone had a great time. I highly recommend it to anyone, even if you've never done a 5K before...many people walked at least half the distance, and no one cares who comes in first or last. It's all about the color.

Color Runner

Approaching the zone,
looking like a Technicolor sandstorm,
the crowd cheers as they are doused
with gritty beauty.

Fragmented rainbows fly
across the skyline,
adding smiles to sweaty faces,
the cherry to top a perfect morning.

The color may wash, blow, or fade away,
but the joyful memory endures forever.

Well.

Profuse apologies for my prolonged absence. Hopefully this post will help to explain my silence.

I have a lot to be grateful for. I have a wonderful husband who treats me like a princess, and two beautiful, healthy little boys who are just the sweetest and funniest little people I have ever had the pleasure to know.

Our family got punched in the gut about six weeks ago. We had just finalized the short sale of our house in the big city and were looking forward to just enjoying our small town life with only one mortgage to pay. I vividly remember telling my husband how happy I was just a few days before it happened.

That Friday in the middle of May, our world started to collapse in a bit. I came home from the library at lunchtime to find my husband in the kitchen. He'd been laid off with no warning. We haven't even been in our little town for a year, and suddenly my husband is scrambling (again!) to find a job. We don't have as much safety net anymore, so I am looking for teaching jobs even though I was hoping to wait until our kids were all in school before going back to work. We will likely have to move because our little town is too far from the nearest major city to commute and job prospects are pretty slim out here.

We cried for a few days. I mourned that we won't be able to have another baby anytime soon, when I was originally hoping for next spring. We are still angry. But we're trying our best to move on.

So now you see why I've been absent...I have been pouring all of my energy into job searching. I have had several interviews but no offers yet. I may not even have to work if my husband gets a job that pays enough, but I guess we'll see. Good thoughts and/or prayers are gladly accepted at this time.

One true blessing of all this crap is that I can show my husband that he's more than just a breadwinner to me. I have been trying my best to be supportive of him and remind him that it wasn't his fault, and that what he is supposed to do will come about in the right time. But it is hard to be patient. Sigh.