All good works…The fruits of our labor. If you love what you do it won’t feel like work. I am searching my mind for wisdom about work. All in a day’s work. A woman’s work is never done. Labour day used to be such a big day for me. It was the last day of summer, the day before returning to a busy frantic September school schedule at work and at home. The day feels nothing like it used to but still holds the exhilaration of change, of possibility, of challenge and adventure along with the sadness of loosing the freedom and scope of summer. The air is crisper, the sky clearer and the breeze cooler. The day heralds the fall even though the calendar still professes summer. This labour day is different yet again. The house I find myself in is no longer mine. I am making the slow transition toward a new home. We will treasure the days of July and August and the days of September and October still ahead before the big move. What a gift they have been to this recovering soul . A new season of life, new chapters written in the ongoing story two kids began writing forty five years ago. The fruits of our labor are many, the lessons, challenges , joys and sorrows bountiful and rich. Harvest after planting and nurturing, dreams and disappointments. Our labour is not done and for that I am truly thankful. Our tasks change and our pace slows. We place our regrets aside and find confidence and hope in a new vision.