Core 5 has arrived

Everyone knows about new car smell. You know--that smell that hits you as you slide your bottom into the generous, plush driver's seat of a car that's sporting less than oh, 100 miles on it? A car that has never once felt the insane crush of a well-installed child's car seat on its rear bench. A car that bears no tell-tale coffee stains on the carpet. A car that has never called anyone else master.

I had one of those cars once. It was a 1996 Saturn SL2. Dh and I were newly married, flush with the income of two jobs and more than eager to start living the adult life everyone told us we were entitled to. That car was more than just a way to get from point A to point B. It was a symbol--a symbol of all the good things to come in our new life together.

I loved that car.

Of course, a year later I was unable to drive that car. It was a manual transmission ... and I was hugely pregnant with the 10 lb., 2 oz whopper that was our firstborn. But I digress ...

For the first time ever, I have sitting in front of me a complete, brand-new Sonlight Core. Core 5 to be exact. The books have intact bindings. The pages are not marred by other people's lunches. The pieces are all there.

It is a giddy feeling, I tell you.

I am far too intelligent to deny that a year from now, the consumables will have been uh, consumed, and the books will have suffered the wear and tear of many a night in a bed belonging to a child who could not, would not put it down.

This is a temporary satisfaction, but a satisfaction nonetheless.

I'm excited for the new year. Blown away by the thoroughness and imagination that seems to have gone into the Eastern Hemisphere Explorer. Salivating over some of the story lines--most of which I have never before read. Eying the timeline figures and wondering who in the heck some of these folks are.

It's going to be a good year. I can smell it.