Now, Where Was I?

It’s been a busy week at The Home Office. (No, this isn’t going to become a suburban Lake Wobegone tale. Calm down.) I’m still settling into the new job, which is going well. The commute is coming along, although finding good ways around the Capital Beltway at or near rush hour is as challenging as finding something Tom DeLay thinks he isn’t allowed to do. (We’ll get to him another time.) The blog has suffered as a result.

(Editor’s Note: The above sentence “The blog has suffered…” invokes a level of license with which we are uncomfortable. The frequency with which the blog has been updated has suffered; the quality of the writing has not. The quality of writing here will reach its most consistent when the Icy Hand of Death™ gives the Home Office Correspondent a lesson in brevity.)

Much of this week was spent with the Sole Heir Correspondent, always a good thing. Not to be too much the stage father, but she was given the option this week of deciding if she wanted to attend an International Baccalaureate high school, the county’s magnet for science for math, or continuing on the humanities track she followed in middle school. The IB and magnet programs involved rigorous exams, and she did well enough to get the choice of where she wanted to go, so she’ll be attending the International Baccalaureate program for the next four years. I couldn’t be more proud of her.

I’ll be back at being my crabby old self in a day or so. Enjoy the respite.