The highway near the town near my new home has a sign that reads:
PRISON IN AREA
DO NOT PICK UP HITCH-HIKERS
Um, okay. Since you put it that way.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Partly
When I was a kid I had two cats from the same litter. The female was a grayish calico named Cloudy. The male was a gray tabby named Partly. He was my favorite. Inconsequentially, the third kitten in the litter was named Stormy and my friend from whom I adopted them was named Sunny. I digress.
One fine sunny day, my teenage brother pulled into the driveway in his Chevy Blazer and hit a startled Cloudy as she darted across the drive. After Cloudy's untimely demise, Partly was so overcome with incompleteness that a few weeks later we found him floating in a garden pond. I think he jumped.
I've decided that I am partly bulimic. The part that doesn't like throwing up. I suppose that makes me a complete food addict. But I like the thought of being partly.
I'm not entirely sure what that has to do with cats.
One fine sunny day, my teenage brother pulled into the driveway in his Chevy Blazer and hit a startled Cloudy as she darted across the drive. After Cloudy's untimely demise, Partly was so overcome with incompleteness that a few weeks later we found him floating in a garden pond. I think he jumped.
I've decided that I am partly bulimic. The part that doesn't like throwing up. I suppose that makes me a complete food addict. But I like the thought of being partly.
I'm not entirely sure what that has to do with cats.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Multiplication
The other day Ethan informed me that he likes living here "like ten times" more than Fairyland. Apparently the winding mountain roads and carsickness (and general time spent in transit) had gotten to him. When asked how he likes school he said "like two times" more than Fairyland. This of course has to do with half-day kindergarten. I mean really, who wouldn't trade in a 7:30am-4:30pm workday for an 8:30-11:30am schedule? This is the schedule I'd always hoped he'd have--(sorry Mr. President, I'm just not a believer that more hours in the school day and more years in the school career is the answer to all that ails public education--perhaps re-instilling family values will work better, but alas, that is another post entirely). You see, he'd gone from being home with mom all day to 9 hours of school/travel time. That's a big jump for a five-year-old. I assumed that was why he was so cranky after school.
I was wrong.
He is cranky after school because he can be, or because--I really don't know, but the shorter day has not done all that much for his attitude. So, although I love the short day theoretically, in practice, it has thrown a few wrenches in my life like no more magic hour. Magic hour was 3-4pm in Fairyland. Elliot was asleep and Ethan was on a bus. Now, Ethan is home, Elliot has entered utter nap rebellion and with big brother home, there is not as much energy available to put into forcing the issue. So, we mourn the end of the magic hour. I also have to get used to the idea that I no longer have the options of an errands day. I have about 2 hours in the am for errands before I must meet the bus and afternoon errands require dragging around 2 cranky kids. I'm adjusting. I'm also considering shopping around for a full-day kindergarten. Kidding.
It is also a big shift going from a school district with 4-year-old kindergarten options and uber-strict attendance policies (did I tell you I got a nasty letter from the principal after Ethan was sick 5 days threatening to prosecute me?), to a school district that not only has half-day kindergarten, but is a bit more lax on attendance. Like the day Ethan came home with a note saying school was cancelled tomorrow so we could all attend the high school girls' basketball semi-final tournament game. Seriously.
Again, theoretically I like the attitude shift. I'm all for giving kids more time to be kids. They have their whole lives to be overworked and exhausted for pete's sake (who is Pete anyway?). I just have to do a little attitude shifting myself and oh, I don't know, become a better parent or something.
And for those of you who are following the moving saga known as: As Our World Moves, we are officially moved in (unofficially we still have a few boxes left to unpack). And here are a few reasons why I like this place like six times more than Fairyland (don't get me wrong, Fairyland was fantastic and beautiful, but allow me some honeymoon here alright?):
1) Living Space. We have elbow room. No more 800 sf crooked cottage in the woods. It's still crooked (it's like a 100 year old farm house for pete's sake), but here I am, typing this from my office (my wo-mancave as Matt is calling it)--a dedicated space for my desk, computer, sewing machine etc. (what, you mean it's not the office/kitchen/dining room/laundryroom anymore?)
2) Outdoor Space. The boys spend hours running around the yard, chasing turtles, riding bikes down the driveway, running on (get this) grass! I imagine summers spent with a hose and a slip 'n slide and a soft landing on grass! I imagine a tire swing, a soccer ball and horses in the pasture. I imagine more vegetables than I know how to can, exploding from my garden.
3) Storage Space. Basement and attic. Need I say more?
4) New Space. I love the smell of new carpet and new paint. I'm still overwhelmed by the welcome we've had. Yes, we've been in interim housing for three weeks, but the result of all that sitting around by the lake, is a houseful of new flooring, paint and lights and bathroom fixtures. Yum!
5) Proximity. I walk with Ethan to the end of our driveway where he gets on the bus at 8:12 and arrives in time for school to start at 8:27. We used to rush out the door at 7:30 to make an 8:10 start time. Then, school is out at 11:30 and the bus drops him here at 11:55. No more 2:50pm bell and 4:15 bus arrival for him! And did I mention there is an ice cream shop 5 minutes away? What else does one need, really?
6) Peace. There was great peace in Fairyland's waterfalls and woods. I am grateful there is peace here as well in the dark, silent nights, the calls of the cranes and geese and in a job that brings home a husband at peace in his world.
I miss my friends. I miss the falls and more. Yet, everything has fallen into place to get us here and for that, I count myself very blessed indeed.
I was wrong.
He is cranky after school because he can be, or because--I really don't know, but the shorter day has not done all that much for his attitude. So, although I love the short day theoretically, in practice, it has thrown a few wrenches in my life like no more magic hour. Magic hour was 3-4pm in Fairyland. Elliot was asleep and Ethan was on a bus. Now, Ethan is home, Elliot has entered utter nap rebellion and with big brother home, there is not as much energy available to put into forcing the issue. So, we mourn the end of the magic hour. I also have to get used to the idea that I no longer have the options of an errands day. I have about 2 hours in the am for errands before I must meet the bus and afternoon errands require dragging around 2 cranky kids. I'm adjusting. I'm also considering shopping around for a full-day kindergarten. Kidding.
It is also a big shift going from a school district with 4-year-old kindergarten options and uber-strict attendance policies (did I tell you I got a nasty letter from the principal after Ethan was sick 5 days threatening to prosecute me?), to a school district that not only has half-day kindergarten, but is a bit more lax on attendance. Like the day Ethan came home with a note saying school was cancelled tomorrow so we could all attend the high school girls' basketball semi-final tournament game. Seriously.
Again, theoretically I like the attitude shift. I'm all for giving kids more time to be kids. They have their whole lives to be overworked and exhausted for pete's sake (who is Pete anyway?). I just have to do a little attitude shifting myself and oh, I don't know, become a better parent or something.
And for those of you who are following the moving saga known as: As Our World Moves, we are officially moved in (unofficially we still have a few boxes left to unpack). And here are a few reasons why I like this place like six times more than Fairyland (don't get me wrong, Fairyland was fantastic and beautiful, but allow me some honeymoon here alright?):
1) Living Space. We have elbow room. No more 800 sf crooked cottage in the woods. It's still crooked (it's like a 100 year old farm house for pete's sake), but here I am, typing this from my office (my wo-mancave as Matt is calling it)--a dedicated space for my desk, computer, sewing machine etc. (what, you mean it's not the office/kitchen/dining room/laundryroom anymore?)
2) Outdoor Space. The boys spend hours running around the yard, chasing turtles, riding bikes down the driveway, running on (get this) grass! I imagine summers spent with a hose and a slip 'n slide and a soft landing on grass! I imagine a tire swing, a soccer ball and horses in the pasture. I imagine more vegetables than I know how to can, exploding from my garden.
3) Storage Space. Basement and attic. Need I say more?
4) New Space. I love the smell of new carpet and new paint. I'm still overwhelmed by the welcome we've had. Yes, we've been in interim housing for three weeks, but the result of all that sitting around by the lake, is a houseful of new flooring, paint and lights and bathroom fixtures. Yum!
5) Proximity. I walk with Ethan to the end of our driveway where he gets on the bus at 8:12 and arrives in time for school to start at 8:27. We used to rush out the door at 7:30 to make an 8:10 start time. Then, school is out at 11:30 and the bus drops him here at 11:55. No more 2:50pm bell and 4:15 bus arrival for him! And did I mention there is an ice cream shop 5 minutes away? What else does one need, really?
6) Peace. There was great peace in Fairyland's waterfalls and woods. I am grateful there is peace here as well in the dark, silent nights, the calls of the cranes and geese and in a job that brings home a husband at peace in his world.
I miss my friends. I miss the falls and more. Yet, everything has fallen into place to get us here and for that, I count myself very blessed indeed.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Mailbox Moments
This goes out to InkMom who called out for embarrassing moments. Please, feel free to share yours as well.
My junior year of high school, I had a super crush on a very cute senior trumpet player. Somehow I scored free symphony tickets, so of course I asked him to go. He said yes and we had a good time. I dropped him off and proceeded to back into his mailbox. That is embarrassing enough, but it gets worse. Much worse.
Fortunately he had gone in before I backed into the mailbox. I got out, gave the box a once over and a good shake. It seemed intact and in relatively good condition, so I gave a small prayer of thanks, and went home to consider how best to explain the scratch in my father's car.
The following Monday was AP Biology, the only class I shared with said trumpet player. I walked in a few minutes early and before Mr. Trumpet. Another student grins at me and says:
You know, you're an excellent driver. Those darn mailboxes just jump out in front of you.
A look of horror crosses my face. He continues:
Funny thing, some friends and I were goofing off late Saturday night and we saw the strangest thing. This car backed right into Mr. Trumpet's mailbox.
Most of the class, who had all arrived at this point, breaks out laughing. Just then, Mr. Trumpet himself walks in and somebody hollers:
Hey! How's your mailbox.
I've gone bright red and am cowering in my seat at this point. Mr. Trumpet looks slightly befuddled.
How did you know about my mailbox?
What happened to it? Someone asks.
It just fell off!
I sink lower in my chair. The bell mercifully rings and the teacher calls the class to order. We're having a test. I cannot even breathe. I randomly fill in the multiple choice bubble, ask to use the rest room and run for a pay phone. I called my mother, in tears, for advice. The only possible solution was obvious. I had to tell him before someone else did. I took a deep breath and headed back to Biology. After class, I asked to talk to him. I explained the whole thing, he laughed, and I offered to replace his mailbox.
It gets worse.
I put off and put off replacing his mailbox until my father forced me to go. It was Senior Prom night, and I was dateless. So, there I was, handing screws to my father at Mr. Trumpet's house as he came out in his tux, waved and left to pick up his date.
His twin brother of course immortalized my embarrassment in my year book with simple four words:
Thanks for the mailbox.
I'll save my other mailbox encounters for another post.
My junior year of high school, I had a super crush on a very cute senior trumpet player. Somehow I scored free symphony tickets, so of course I asked him to go. He said yes and we had a good time. I dropped him off and proceeded to back into his mailbox. That is embarrassing enough, but it gets worse. Much worse.
Fortunately he had gone in before I backed into the mailbox. I got out, gave the box a once over and a good shake. It seemed intact and in relatively good condition, so I gave a small prayer of thanks, and went home to consider how best to explain the scratch in my father's car.
The following Monday was AP Biology, the only class I shared with said trumpet player. I walked in a few minutes early and before Mr. Trumpet. Another student grins at me and says:
You know, you're an excellent driver. Those darn mailboxes just jump out in front of you.
A look of horror crosses my face. He continues:
Funny thing, some friends and I were goofing off late Saturday night and we saw the strangest thing. This car backed right into Mr. Trumpet's mailbox.
Most of the class, who had all arrived at this point, breaks out laughing. Just then, Mr. Trumpet himself walks in and somebody hollers:
Hey! How's your mailbox.
I've gone bright red and am cowering in my seat at this point. Mr. Trumpet looks slightly befuddled.
How did you know about my mailbox?
What happened to it? Someone asks.
It just fell off!
I sink lower in my chair. The bell mercifully rings and the teacher calls the class to order. We're having a test. I cannot even breathe. I randomly fill in the multiple choice bubble, ask to use the rest room and run for a pay phone. I called my mother, in tears, for advice. The only possible solution was obvious. I had to tell him before someone else did. I took a deep breath and headed back to Biology. After class, I asked to talk to him. I explained the whole thing, he laughed, and I offered to replace his mailbox.
It gets worse.
I put off and put off replacing his mailbox until my father forced me to go. It was Senior Prom night, and I was dateless. So, there I was, handing screws to my father at Mr. Trumpet's house as he came out in his tux, waved and left to pick up his date.
His twin brother of course immortalized my embarrassment in my year book with simple four words:
Thanks for the mailbox.
I'll save my other mailbox encounters for another post.
Doing Our Part
What is one to do in the midst of the "Great Economic Downturn"? Stuff your money in your mattress? Hide under a rock? or go shopping!
Our last move took us from a 4 bedroom, 2100 square foot home into an 800 square foot cottage. We got rid of lots of stuff. Now we're going into 1500 square foot farmhouse. We find ourselves in need again of some stuff. Not too much, mind you, but I think our little chaise lounge will feel very lonely in that big living room. So today we went shopping in my husband's newly purchased truck--yes, we're now officially truck-owners. What has the world come to?
Here's the haul:
1 Dodge Truck (this wasn't today's purchase, but we ought to count it somewhere)
15 yards decorator fabric (we're going to need quite a bit more)
1 sofa
1 hutch
1 headboard with 2 nightstands
1 kids dresser
2 bookcases
1 desk with shelves
Oh, and some new church clothes for the boys to replace the load we washed with crayons in the pocket.
I'm not a big shopper and if I never see the inside of another furniture gallery or car dealership, I'll die happy, but I do have a special place in my heart for that big blue Swedish store, and believe it or not, I was very restrained . . . (we'll go back in a few weeks). It was a long day, but the boys were quite well behaved, all things considered.
Just doing what I can to help the economy recover.
Our last move took us from a 4 bedroom, 2100 square foot home into an 800 square foot cottage. We got rid of lots of stuff. Now we're going into 1500 square foot farmhouse. We find ourselves in need again of some stuff. Not too much, mind you, but I think our little chaise lounge will feel very lonely in that big living room. So today we went shopping in my husband's newly purchased truck--yes, we're now officially truck-owners. What has the world come to?
Here's the haul:
1 Dodge Truck (this wasn't today's purchase, but we ought to count it somewhere)
15 yards decorator fabric (we're going to need quite a bit more)
1 sofa
1 hutch
1 headboard with 2 nightstands
1 kids dresser
2 bookcases
1 desk with shelves
Oh, and some new church clothes for the boys to replace the load we washed with crayons in the pocket.
I'm not a big shopper and if I never see the inside of another furniture gallery or car dealership, I'll die happy, but I do have a special place in my heart for that big blue Swedish store, and believe it or not, I was very restrained . . . (we'll go back in a few weeks). It was a long day, but the boys were quite well behaved, all things considered.
Just doing what I can to help the economy recover.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Suitcases, Snow and Interim Housing
We've been in Michigan about 10 days now. We've seen none of the much anticipated snow. Unless you count the dirty drifts at the side of the road that my sons climbed all over for a few days until the warm weather and torrential downpour melted them away.
But back in Fairyland, they got a foot of snow a few days after we left. Just our luck (the kind of luck is all in your perspective).
For all those dying for an update: We're here. We're alive. We're living out of suitcases.
It's all good. The cute farmhouse where we'll be living is in the midst of a serious interior facelift. My husband's employer is bending over backwards to welcome us and make us at home. They are painting and recarpeting the entire interior and essentially remodeling the bathroom. We even got to select carpet, paint and a fridge. Have I mentioned lately how overrated homeownership is? Employer provided housing is the way to go.
In the meantime, we're living in our suitcases (not literally) in a "cottage" (fully furnished 3-bedroom house on the lake) down the road. Not bad for interim housing.
So, as we go about the business of changing our lives (insurance, licenses, traffic tickets, schools and library cards), Matt and I fight over the laptop and I seem to fall farther and farther behind on my blog. For that I apologize.
All our earthly possessions currently reside in a truck in the driveway and we should be able to unload in about another 10 days. I'll let you know how it goes--maybe I'll even post some pictures.
But back in Fairyland, they got a foot of snow a few days after we left. Just our luck (the kind of luck is all in your perspective).
For all those dying for an update: We're here. We're alive. We're living out of suitcases.
It's all good. The cute farmhouse where we'll be living is in the midst of a serious interior facelift. My husband's employer is bending over backwards to welcome us and make us at home. They are painting and recarpeting the entire interior and essentially remodeling the bathroom. We even got to select carpet, paint and a fridge. Have I mentioned lately how overrated homeownership is? Employer provided housing is the way to go.
In the meantime, we're living in our suitcases (not literally) in a "cottage" (fully furnished 3-bedroom house on the lake) down the road. Not bad for interim housing.
So, as we go about the business of changing our lives (insurance, licenses, traffic tickets, schools and library cards), Matt and I fight over the laptop and I seem to fall farther and farther behind on my blog. For that I apologize.
All our earthly possessions currently reside in a truck in the driveway and we should be able to unload in about another 10 days. I'll let you know how it goes--maybe I'll even post some pictures.
Nicaragua
As we were packing up the house, I got a phone call. A nice woman explained that her son was in my son's kindergarten class and they had been meaning for some time to call us and get the boys together to play.
But alas, she explained, last week her son came home from school and announced that Ethan is moving to Nicaragua.
She of course wanted to call and get the full scoop and our address so they can be pen pals. He's already sent us a letter here. Do you think he'll feel betrayed when Ethan's letter arrives from Michigan?
But alas, she explained, last week her son came home from school and announced that Ethan is moving to Nicaragua.
She of course wanted to call and get the full scoop and our address so they can be pen pals. He's already sent us a letter here. Do you think he'll feel betrayed when Ethan's letter arrives from Michigan?
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