If we had grown the wheat ourselves, rendered lard, planted an apple tree and built our own oven... then made the pie... it was about that easy to make the Blue House our very Own Bird House.
And last night, easy as can be, we did make a pie and we ate it in our very own Bird House. It was apple. Max peeled and cored the apples. He thought it would be another month before the house sale was complete. Was he ever surprised when we arrived at our picnic destination.
We got our keys yesterday. I put three pumpkins on the bench by the front door. The first essentials basket is unpacked... the cow cookie cutter is a virgin, a gift from Holly's last visit to Wisconsin and a reminder of family, love and traditions. Those pretty coasters were a gift from a thoughtful and brilliant woman I know and they remind me that friendships make life much, much better. The batteries turned out to be the wrong size for the flashlight... made me laugh. The Frekvens is the Ikea gimmick I have stowed away for two years and now it will finally have a job: turning one room into two, for brothers who will share living quarters. Cranberry candles and pumpkin spice candles, so we can chase away the empty house smell. A gardening handbook... worm themed, so I can start doing more than just dreaming. And our bird chart, because I will be spending a lot of time just lazing about and identifying bird species... you know, in my free time!
It is a big blue house with a big green yard. Betty-Chica will need track shoes to get around this place. Do you remember my blue, baby figgy? Well, the momma figgy lives here. I shouldn't explain. I take the fifth.
Language is inadequate. I cannot adequately describe my struck-to-the-core giddiness. Another brilliant friend commented on a recent post: "I've never known you without the wistfulness of yearning for a birdhouse of your own again. Who will you be now that you've become all SETTLED?" The answer is I do not know, but I feel a light has been turned on, and I feel relieved, eager and energized. I am delighted to have this new chapter open up before us and I am happy to delve in.
Language is inadequate, but here are some words that spring forth...
Someday I would like to put them in order, elaborate. But for now, I really must get busy putting other things in order!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Every time I move, and trust me it's been many times, I pack a box or basket with the essentials. The essentials are things that cannot disappear in the moving mix, those things that I want to have on hand right away. Some of the essentials are clearly important or significant, especially at the outset of packing. But toward the middle, and right through to the end, the essentials get quite random and voluminous. That's when things get complicated.
In the beginning I am all hyper organized and rational and my game face is on. In the beginning I am like a moving master, all knowing, all seeing. Where is the cow cookie cutter? Do we have any C batteries? Are those starlings or mockingbirds? The answers or the resources are mine and I can provide all things necessary, even in the midst of dual-domesticity... but that is only at the start of the journey.
How long can I sustain the illusion that I have everything under control, that moving is "easy" because I am so experienced and perky? Not long. No. Soon I will have several baskets and boxes that are full of the most important articles, those necessities that keep us moving forward and safe from absolute chaos. Soon we will be in a last minute panic, trying to get out of here with GaryBob on our heels, and still trying to get homework completed and cobwebs cleared and that is when we will pack at least
But for now I have this lovely Pack-Basket and it is filled with the essentials and it is plain to see that I am a moving master. These are the small lies and deceptions I feed myself in order to have the courage to keep moving forward.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
We may have only spent 24 hours in Germany, but it was enough time to get a little folkwear for Maria.
I could Google this, but I am content to be curious: Why is Oktoberfest in September?
And another thing, and I cannot Google this one, why is it the first day of Fall and yet we have a ninety-three degree forecast?! It's So Cal. Our "Fall" won't appear until after Halloween, and hopefully by then we will have all come safely out of fire season and can finally enjoy brisk days and nights. I am a coastal-desert girl, pining away for Midwest seasonal weather. I am ready for a little frost on the palm trees... so to speak.
The coldest thing at Oktoberfest, besides the beer I assume, was the soft serve ice cream Geoff bought for Max and Maria.
No matter how hot it gets this week, I will not be able to resist thinking of crunching fallen leaves beneath my boots and gazing at crimson trees. I will be reading pumpkin soup recipes and imagining the first cold rain, the first fire in the fireplace, the first mug of hot apple cider. Until our own signs of the changing season appear, I will be looking for glimpses in other places. Some places know how to do Fall right.