Cole stands in unsafe, Confederate canon range at the Cold Harbor Battlefield.

Today, I visited my first battlefield. I really didn't have any expectations other than I didn't want any ghost soliders touring with us. Thankfully, that didn't happen. Instead, we first stopped at the Battle of Cold Harbor. It's down the road near Mechanicsville, Va., in Hanover County, kind of near Richmond. Inside the tiny information building, we gazed at some Civil War images and watched dots fight it out on a display map. . . .

Last month, Cole embarked on a new adventure. He started his first day of law school. While he marched off on his 25 minute walk to the Law School building, I was working from my desk at home. So, we had no first-day-of-school picture.

That had to be fixed, but the moment and day was over.

So we staged it.

Next year on his first day of school, we are going to have to plan better so it can be authentic. Regardless, enjoy these two school pictures. :) . . .

One day while pinning, I saw a great idea. Track your travels on a big map. So behold Our Destinations! With a map from National Geographic (great magazine), a cork board and some sewing pins, our trips and the world fit with a 3-by-2 rectangle.

On the board so far is a smattering of locations. But we decided to differentiate between travelers. Cole has blue pins, my are, you guessed it, purple, and our combined travels poke with yellow. . . .

Hiking, waterfalls and mountains definitely count for Green Speak Monday. I observed nature, went to a national park and interacted with the earth, even if it didn't always play nice. On our Sunday Funday adventure, we traveled down the Blue Ridge Parkway, which is America's favorite drive, and ended up at the Crabtree Falls.

. . .

From our balcony, I see and hear rain pour from the sky daily it seems like.

Today, the alarm clock, okay, my phone, jangled in my ear telling me Cole needed to get ready for class. In my groggy morning state, I hear a familiar sound. But just the pitter-patter sound. No flashes. No rumbles. Just the light ping of water hitting the window ledge. I prop myself against my pillow and bend the blinds just enough to see a cloudy sky crying at 7:30 a.m. . . .