Just yesterday, the kids and I were talking about how different our childhoods are. I grew up on a farm in Nebraska. Everyone spoke English and most people we knew were involved in agriculture. They are growing up in Arequipa, Peru and speak English at home and German and Spanish at school raised by their widowed doctor father who sees patients in our living room on many days of the week.
As a poignant reminder of how different our childhoods are, while hanging laundry on the roof of our house this morning, I pointed to the northwest, "Look the Volcano Sabancaya is errupting!" No worries, it is about 50 miles from our house and we aren't among the unfortunate living downwind from it.
The view from our rooftop this morning.