It was the phone call this afternoon that tipped the balance. A simple call to Verizon, to ask if the payment I’d scheduled for next week was going to prevent their threatened suspension of service. Been there before, and yes I get touchy when finances are tight, but it always works out. I had to wait through their menu 3 times before my “0” would get me an actual human, but I was connected right away. Gave my name, and he looked me up, but when I tried to answer his second question, he suddenly couldn’t hear me. At all. I could hear him clearly, but he obviously heard nothing. I hollered to no avail, and he hung up after saying it was due to a bad connection.
The alarm went off at 4:30 this morning, and as usual it was a brutal up-rising … car to warm up, food and sundries to throw at M as he packed his bag, jackets to find, and warm sleepy boys to drag out of bed and into the car. It’s Monday, and that means time to send Dad back into the city for the week. He has to catch at train at 6am to get into Manhattan for 9am, and the drive to the station is about 40 minutes. By the time he’d run back into the house for his phone and charger, we got on the road, crept over the bridge, and raced down hwy 97 entirely too fast (IMHO) for the fog and dark and lurking deer. I munched cold granola and started to fall asleep, trying not to wake up completely but knowing it was a losing battle.
Newer pics are on the camera, no time to download. The above shot was from last weekend, heading out the Holland Tunnel one more time. Goodbye’s said, as much as they can be, and there are many more that will be missed. Some whispered ones, as I lost my voice yesterday thanks to a trashed immune system, no sleep, a raging cold, and a fun but oh so not on the schedule trip to the fabulous Maker Faire. No regrets :)Read More
We have a place, at last! Major relief, and I can’t argue with a front yard like this. I really can’t. So thankful for it. The house is tiny but perfect, and has a studio out back which makes it even better. Packing is crazy-making but good, and my sis has come to help and I think I’d have gone ballistic if she hadn’t. Getting kids to pack/purge their stuff? Not for the faint of heart. I hope we all survive. The lego armada has yet to be tackled, but I’m leaving it till last. And books, how on earth did we get this many? Getting rid of lots, but there are many many more where they came from.Read More
It gets worse before it gets better, right? This is Fynn’s idea of how to sort his drawings … really helps you feel like you’re making progress. It always seems like the point at which the papers and legos are scattered the farthest is when the landlord calls to say the realtor will be through in 2 hours with another possible tenant who wants to see the apartment. I go on a crazy cleanup binge so that they can at least walk from one end of the house to the other without breaking an ankle, but it starts to get a bit old.
Eugene, my neighbor of 9 years, turned 92 last week. He’s the oldest of the old-timers around here, and I’m sad to say I didn’t really meet him until about 18 months ago. You see, he’s lived in the house next door for over 70 years, and in this neighborhood his entire life, and he’s not forgotten a thing. I can’t really think about the 7 years I didn’t know him, and just enjoy every minute I get to sit on his porch and listen to his stories. He has no end of them, that’s for sure.
Nothing quite screams “neglected blog!” like an outdated banner, does it? Well, that point is remedied, and it alone should give you a small glimpse into my state of mind. The last month has been a whirlwind, and it shows little sign of settling down.
he’s packed for camp, and leaves in the morning for 3.5 weeks. we all know now how it’s going to feel, so he’s beyond giddy, and i’m a little quiet. it will be good. we haven’t been able to savor summer together yet as we’ve been on the go so much, i haven’t once managed to take them to the pool down the street, though i hope to manage that with at least Fynn in the next few weeks. it’s just not that kind of summerRead More
The sprinklers are on, the heat is here, and school is out … how’s your summer going so far? We’re in the thick of trips and playdates and visitors and parties, and it feels good but a little crazy. I’m looking forward to things settling down a bit, but honestly it doesn’t look much like it’s going to for awhile.
What were your summers like as a kid? I remember long days of games and the backyard pool and firefly catching. Books too, lots of books. Speaking of which, if you haven’t checked out Bridget’s new book On a Hot August Afternoon yet, please do. It’s a great summer read, and as she points out in a recent blog post, one of the central themes is assumptions. How we make them all the time, and yet really have no idea what the whole story is. It really relates to parenting and relationships, and how we tend to judge or jump to conclusions when it’s the last thing we’d want someone to do to us.
There’s no question that summer is here, at least in attitudes and clothing choices. Pools aren’t open yet, but layers have been shed, windows are open, and everyone is lingering outside later and later. I’m feeling the pressure of a chaotic series of trips and complicated schedules, trying to finish up schooling and get everyone and everything organized so that we can leave on time. Some days I think my head is rolling around under the bed collecting dust bunnies, and other days I’m yelling at the boys to stop making weird noises and find something to do already!
Quick question to start of the week, it’s been awhile since I asked one. Do you give yourself time to play? I mean relaxing and enjoyable time to do fun and maybe whimsical things, like your kids do every time they get a chance. I don’t just mean getting down on the floor to build block towers with them, but doing something playful for your own enjoyment.
Here we are, another Friday, and I’ve not posted all week. Can’t say why really. Some of the things running through my head though, for your random pleasure …
Am I hitting the edges of menopause, God help me, and if so am I really really done having kids? Hm? Really? Not 100% sure, but close, still that shred of doubt makes me wonder if and when I’ll regret it.