Thursday, November 11, 2021

A Thursday In November


It hasn't even been a week since this room was finished, and it already feels like it was always this way, meant to be. And yet, it still surprises me. So far, no regrets on the big changes. I need to buy shampoo. And there are towel hooks to put back up. Oh, and I am on the look out for small shelves. No hurry. I love how the water picks up color from the tiles. It looks as though we've added something, something scented, soothing. Maybe should find a bathmat for the floor, too. Nothing with rubber, or that can't be tossed in the wash.

Mike is helping us with electrical/solar issues, which is brilliant. And he took out the old, janky window in William's room. At last William will be able to open and close his windows. This is something we have been working at, little by little, as nearly every window in our house has issues. Soon, Mike will be taking a break. I am so thankful for all that has been accomplished.
This is a scene in Geoff's office. (That is Geoff and Max's office, and Max's bedroom.) I shared it on Instagram, and called it Maker's Still Life. I could ask. Hey, what's with all of the paper lanterns? But that could ruin a surprise, the pleasure of wondering. I love the details, the hints of things we have going on. Are those house plans in the printer tray? Spoke lights? It's never ever ever dull around here.
Maria texted me from school. She sent pictures, updates from the animation she and her friends are making in art class. Then a favor-ask: Please remind me to do a physics thing. I took a break from washing dishes, to make a note. Lists, notes, reminders, alarms, texts... I rely heavily on all kinds of memory aids. This message replaced "Happy Halloween," and Maria laughed appreciatively when she saw it. When I went back to dishwashing, I thought about this senior year of hers, and how much she is enjoying school, and how much I love hearing her read aloud, share her writing, the texts she sends me, and so much more. We scheduled an appointment for her yearbook portrait. She only has a little bit more to do to finish her college applications. Oh, dear... it's just as I expected, this time is flying by, and as much as I have been mindful, involved, recognzing big and small moments, I only wish it were going to last a little longer, these school days, close to home, sharing. I am sure a lot of parents are reflecting and feeling a peculiar kind of bewilderment, maybe even bitterness, about the wildly strange way these high school years twisted in the midst of a global pandemic. I really don't like to dwell on it, especially because, relatively, we have been safe, insulated, but there have been real losses, disappointments, and struggles, even in our good lives. I feel sad about those things that were lost or hard, unfair. I know: Life is unfair, but I think we have a generation of children, students, that carry a burden, have faced profoundly unprecedented circumstances, and it's leaving a mark, and is worthy of our compassion, concern, care.
I can't find the crochet hook I was using to finish the most recent shawl I have been making. It will show up. When I least expect it, I will open the bag or box, where I put it for safe keeping, then I can add the last row or two, and have another shawl done. In the meantime, I found the drawer where I stashed my wool felt, then pulled out floss, and... and then sat and muddled for a few days, because I need time and space to shift gears, and find my embroidery groove. Where are the beading needles I brought home from my Mom's studio? Or the templates I got for drawing shapes? I don't know which is harder, finding my stuff when things are in disarray, or finding my stuff when everything has been put away. I made a snowman brooch. It's kind of like a first pancake... not as good as I hoped, but palatable, and now I feel assured, and in a groove, about making some other bits and pieces.

2 comments:

Nicole MacPherson said...

This is exactly how I feel, exactly: "I am sure a lot of parents are reflecting and feeling a peculiar kind of bewilderment, maybe even bitterness, about the wildly strange way these high school years twisted in the midst of a global pandemic. I really don't like to dwell on it, especially because, relatively, we have been safe, insulated, but there have been real losses, disappointments, and struggles, even in our good lives. I feel sad about those things that were lost or hard, unfair. I know: Life is unfair, but I think we have a generation of children, students, that carry a burden, have faced profoundly unprecedented circumstances, and it's leaving a mark, and is worthy of our compassion, concern, care."

I am just so happy the boys are in school and are each doing an extracurricular activity. I can't help but wonder about the toll this pandemic is going to take on them. Yes, we have been doing fine - really, more than fine - but also, not.

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Thank you, Nicole. It's not easy to describe, and I don't want my daughter to ever feel like the difficulties will define her, or that we will struggle to overcome, but I think it's a disservices and disrespectful to gloss it all over, downplay it. No doubt, there will years, decades, of unraveling the effects and tolls. Like you, I feel happy for school time, and those extracurricular activities. I so admire these young people, their intelligence and compassion, their resilience.