Nothing waits

Our peonies bloom and then, in only a day or two, they are done and their petals scatter. We adore them, and understand that we must be vigilant and quick if we're going to see them on their glorious day. I love that I can spy a bud just coming out in the morning and then by the end of the day see the full-blown result.

Summer's coming just as quickly.

Dean will be graduated from 8th grade in 15 days.  He has school on only 5 of those days!  There's a hiking trip up to the White Mountains in New Hampshire next week, and parent-teacher conferences and, oh, field day (a day of fun and games) so really that's 4 days of school.  And then, if I'm counting correctly, 80 days of summer to relish.

Ready or not, here we come.

I want to be sure that in the insanity of moving we don't lose sight of making sure we make the summer count, that we carve out time for mini golf and ice cream and, because I'm free to dream, a trip to the beach.  I wonder if it will make sense to put the badminton net up on the lawn.  Probably not.  Maybe at the new house?  Sleeping in -- we can definitely try to do some of that.  And this really should be the year we go to the drive-in theater that's not too far from here, before we're too far from here.

What I realize is that while time is always whooshing by, there are certain points (big impending life changes and milestones being major ones) that make me so much more acutely aware of how there really is no slowing it down and that it's going too fast.  No turning back, just holding on tight and trying to enjoy the ride. Or, better, throwing your hands in the air and laughing all the way.

Flowering

Trying to focus on what I'm learning about myself in this process, and breathing deeply to try to bring a state of calm to it as well. I know I can do this, moving forward into the unknown with trust and hope.

Where the heart is

I realize, suddenly, that I do expect things to go a certain way.

It's not that I'm not flexible (I think); I can often imagine veering off a particular path and am generally willing to do so.  When Dean and I get into the car at the end of the school day and I offer to take him out for ice cream, or mini golfing, or down to Cape Cod to go to the beach (quite a trek from where we are), I really mean it -- at that moment, I'm willing take a sudden detour (he's yet to take me up on anything, but someday....)

I'm grappling with an intense feeling of seller's remorse, now that it appears we're really on track to sell our home, and I think the reason is because it just all happened a lot faster than I thought it would.  I thought we'd have the house on the market all summer.  I thought we might still be in our house when school starts in September.  I never for a moment thought that 12 days after listing it we would be signing off on an accepted offer (and, as it turns out, to the first person who looked at it).

I do realize that the world of real estate sales is no cake walk, and that there's plenty that could derail this freight train.  But somehow I feel that it really is going to happen (or at least that there will be a back-up for this deal if we end up re-listing).  And that's not at all what I expected.

It's made me review the list of reasons we decided to move in the first place.  All solid, still valid.  It's made me consider my emotional attachments, which run deeper than I realized.

I've lived in many places, but really have only had 2 homes -- the one I grew up in and this one.  And though it totally blows my mind to say it, the truth is that I have lived in our current home for LONGER than I lived in that house in Chicago where I grew up; there's some kind of twist of time and memory at work to make that true in a way I have a hard time accepting.

And the thing, really, that's throwing me for a loop here is that we are NOT finding our next home.  Remind me, people, how ridiculous it is that I'm saying that given that we've only looked at 3 houses so far with our realtor and gone to 4 open houses on our own so far.  On the other hand, I've looked at EVERY house listed in our target towns online so many times that I can look over the list the realtor gave me of all listings in those towns and I know just from the address which house is which.

Why is it that the only people listing their homes are the ones who live in ancient houses, or on corner lots of two busy streets, or next to power lines or within spitting distance of a hospital?  I mean, I GET why those people don't want to live in those houses any more (while respecting that some people are quite happy there, thank you very much), but aren't there people like us with nice houses on nice lots in quiet neighborhoods who want to move?  In the Boston area, you can easily buy a home built in the 1800s, if that's your desire.  It is not my desire. You can also easily buy a home built between 1900 and 1935, and then between 1946 and 1969.  It's not that I don't respect and appreciate history, and it's not that I'm clueless about the benefits of going with what's there; but I'm realistic about our lack of handyman skills and our inability to manage a home that turns out to need drastic electrical or plumbing or mold mitigation work (or the many other pitfalls in owning older homes).

There's very little from the 1970s (which could be a blessing, of course), and then stuff built from 1980 until now is few and far between.  Although often enough, some speculating builder bought one of those older homes on a tiny lot, knocked it down, and replaced it with a McMansion that's STILL on a tiny lot on a busy street (and of course ridiculously expensive).

I did see one of the most beautiful and unusual homes I'd ever seen.  In our price range.  Nice town, nice lot.  We would have needed to add on to it, but there were some possibilities there. However, the owners smoke (cigars and cigarettes), and my research shows me that, particularly given the way this house is built, those chemicals and odors can never be fully removed.  Ken's allergies, not to mention moving Dean into the House of Second Hand Smoke, take this one right off the list.

Sigh.

I guess one reason our house sold so quickly is that we've taken care of it, maintained everything, renovated what needed updating (the house was built in 1990), made lovely gardens, and listened to our realtor's advice about price (most people seem to be living in their own private Idaho when it comes to setting a listing price).  Oh well.

We'll keep looking, of course.  I'll be all on top of those new listings as they appear, and from our research we will certainly know it when we see it.  And buy it, hopefully.  And be able to move in on or before August 1, because otherwise we're hitting the road.

searching

I have found my home

in the garden of a friend

you will find yours, too

Fun breaks out

I begin by giving up any hope or plan to be linear here. Two huge, momentous, life-changing months have passed -- all good! -- and while I truly haven't had a moment until now to try to post, I began by feeling too overwhelmed about where to even begin.  That is, until I decided to just roll and not worry about laying it all out in any particular order.

It does start with Dean, as I think about it -- here, contemplating and experiencing the ocean on the entire opposite side of the country than the ocean he was exploring in my last post. Kind of neat and perfect, if I do say so.  He was accepted at all 3 high schools to which he applied, and he enthusiastically (after about a month of great reviewings and backings and forthings) chose the school we thought was pretty much made for him.  He'll be a day student there of course; I couldn't even begin to contemplate sending him to boarding school. Although I will say that the fact that it does include boarding students really appealed to all of us -- he'll get to meet and make friends with kids from throughout the US and the world. We have visions of inviting his boarding friends over for weekends and holidays when they may not be able to travel home. But that's a side story for now. The big one was just getting through the process, having him get his acceptances, and making The Decision.

And here it is, kind of all falling in time order after all, but seriously -- a day after that, the boy turned 14. Just like that. While mothers anxiously await and watch for and track and celebrate each tiny milestone of an infant, there's this astonishing, magical thing that happens at the twilight of childhood that deserves just as much attention. There's even more happening, and happening even more quickly -- growing up, literally and figuratively. All of a sudden, here's this entirely new, yet entirely familiar person emerging. Capable of so much, so wonderful to be around, so ready to bloom.

 Now is where my story is going to be gaining a kind of crazy and out-of-control speed, just so you know. And Natalie, of course, has already said so much and said it so profoundly; right after Dean's birthday we hightailed it out of town to celebrate -- both his birthday and my own -- by flying clear 'cross the country to California, and our dearest friends whom we'd never met but feel we've always known. Natalie and I met through our blogs (she figures it was 5 years ago, and I believe her), and when Ken started asking me last year about how I wanted to celebrate my birthday it didn't take me long to figure out that I really, really wanted to meet Natalie and her family in person.

We met them one day at the San Diego Zoo -- just like we were old time, all-along friends who just planned a trip together to the zoo -- and then Dean, Ken and I just kept showing up at their house and having more fun than we knew what to do with.

(In addition to meeting Natalie, we also achieved a big wish-list item of seeing real, live pandas.)

I hope that everyone who blogs, and who makes good friends through blogging, makes a point of getting out into the world to meet at least one of those friends. I can tell you that it's better than you can even imagine. For me, Natalie's friendship and the connections between our families is a gift of such magnitude that it goes beyond anything I would have dreamed of.  Usually, you know, when you make friends in your usual walk of life -- people you meet through work or your child's school or sports or your neighbors -- you certainly appreciate those friendships, and when you're lucky they last for years and years, and the friendship itself reveals itself over time and takes the kind of journey that every day life is made of (in the best possible way). It's normal stuff, is what I'm saying. And maybe we should try to stop and feel more fortunate about those connections, and honor the magic that IS in there, too. But this was something, well, special-er. 

 

To come face-to-face for the first time with people that you've been cheering on and learning about and getting to know online was, for me, kind of like meeting some movie star or something (but better than that, truly).  What I mean is that I felt I KNEW them all already, even though we'd never met -- it's that piece that has the kind of celebrity sighting feel to it. But these are real people who are truly our friends, and we had to figure out together how to BE friends together in person and it all just fell easily into place.

 We hiked at Torrey Pines, just as Natalie envisioned that we would. What delighted me about getting to know her in person was the opportunity to experience the things that just don't come across a computer screen, such as her wonderfully lilting, musical way of speaking. Her sparkling sense of humor is even more effervescent in person, although her humor certainly comes across in her writing.

 See? Dean just blends right in -- one of the gang. He adored all of Natalie's children, and had a particularly nice connection with Max, who is just his age.

Natalie's children adore her, they adore her wonderful husband Geoff, and they adore simply being at home. Who wouldn't, when it IS the place where fun breaks out? We hope they can come visit us someday, and/or that we get to get out there again some time.

 And then, from there, we drove north. Up to Disneyland. I will start THIS by saying that for as long as we have dreamed of visiting Walt's park, we were heartbroken to leave our friends and ultimately did have the BEST part of the trip with them.

 I would like to try to do a separate post about this part -- or maybe I'll just end up dropping in photos along the way --

 Plenty of people don't get the whole Disney thing -- the same ones who can't fathom why, if we've already been to Disney World in Florida we would want to go to Disneyland in California -- and I guess those are people who don't see the value (or haven't experienced the magic) of riding a carousel with your 14-year-old son and your altogether grown-up husband and laughing pretty much the whole time.

Sigh. I do need to go now, and make dinner, and then clean up in a spectacular way because our house is for sale. Right after we got home from our trip we called the realtor, because that new school of Dean's is fairly close to Boston, and Boston is where Ken works, and we live far enough away from Boston now that we need to move closer. We've lived in our house for 22 years, and perhaps when I tell you that there were only 3 weeks between our having that initial meeting with the realtor and today, and you imagine all that it might take to get a house ready to be on the market that has been being filled up with stuff for 22 years (and frankly not cleaned as often nor as thoroughly as it should have been) then you'll further get why I've been away from this space for so long.

I do hope to tell more of our stories, and show more of our pictures, and be back here a little more often now. Even though we've got a mountain to climb ahead of us, I feel such a weight has been lifted that's been on me for a long time. I understand where we're headed, and that was such the great unknown for so long -- and the way ahead seems so inviting and warm and wonderful. Fun will just keep breaking out.

Brave

I finally worked up the courage to come over here and see how long it had been since my last post. I'm just waiting on some *next steps* kind of news and plan to do a good long catch-up post soon. Meanwhile, we skip rocks into the Atlantic when we can, and dream of what lies just ahead.

Giving it away

I'm honestly not sure how it is possible that, despite knowing all day long that today was January 31st, and in fact anticipating and planning for today (the birthday of my first and best friend since childhood), it only JUST struck me that it's the last day of the month. That January has in fact already come. and. gone. Tomorrow, a new month. Effortless, and in fact fairly frightening in how smoothly and effortlessly it has just slid by.

Is it the weather? Is it this weird non-winter winter where it was, today, 51 f.? Is January usually a month that seems to take a lot longer to pass because it's usually so cold and snowy and miserable? Seriously, I can't figure this out. Where did the month go?

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't go the whole *resolutions* route this year, given that I've somehow let 4 weeks just evaporate on my watch.

Oh well.

I'm trying to give something away every day; not exactly a resolution, although it can on some days connect to the whole clear-out-the-house-of-unnecessary-stuff project. And it doesn't have to be a "thing" -- I can give a kindness, give way to another driver, make eye contact with the security guard (or grocery clerk or other person in a job that tends to render him or her invisible to most) and wish him a nice afternoon. I gave away several full-to-the-brim shopping bags of art and craft supplies to a friend at work with young granddaughters; I had all kinds of beautiful beads and feathers and paints and paper and really, just loads of beautiful things that Dean has outgrown or passed over. It felt so good to send everything off, knowing it would be used and loved. The funny thing, the wonderfully funny thing, is that my friend went out and got me some special tea and the perfect tea mug and some fuzzy socks (to know me is to know how much I love fun socks) -- funny what comes back when you give things away.

Change

I've been slow on the whole new year's resolutions thing this year; older and wiser, maybe, about how real change happens? Less concerned with deadlines, and embracing the ability and right to start fresh at any time? Avoidance of acknowledgment of the passing of time? All parts of whatever the truth is.

One thing that will be true of this 2012 I've got in front of me is change. Lots will change, whether I want it to or not. Dean will graduate from 8th grade and go on to a new high school (not that I don't want that to happen, but there's a lot of emotion around it). I've done all the hard work (checking out schools, getting the applications in, going on the visits and interviews) and so now we're all just waiting for the decisions from the schools, and our own decision.

Lots will change that will require real effort from me to make it happen. We'll be moving to a new house this year, one way or another. And within that, I can also see the need for making little, daily changes that will add up to my feeling pretty delighted at the end of this year (getting organized, completing some craft projects, reconnecting with old friends). I need to keep pushing myself along, and I need to be careful not to hide from the small changes behind the big ones.

Do you sometimes find yourself dragging your heels in the face of change? I'm trying not to get stuck in resistance, but to be renewed by pushing through and embracing. That's what I think this year is going to be all about.

5x7 Folded Card

Because I really cannot resist Valentine's Day, and need a next holiday to prepare for!

Picture In Landscape 5x7 folded card

Tell them you love them with Shutterfly Valentines cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Better

Dean does not have strep throat. This is a big relief to me, even as I acknowledge to him that "not having strep," and "feeling 100% better" are two entirely different things. He definitely has a cold, and with it some variety of virus that's particularly awful on the throat.

He felt too sick to go to school yesterday, and I know that I can totally trust him in this regard -- that if he's says he's too sick to go to school, it is true. I looked at my own work schedule for the day and, given that I was already dressed and prepared, thought that I perhaps should leave him with clear instructions and go on to work. Again, I know I can trust him, and I know that he's comfortable and capable managing a day on his own.

But then I reflected -- in an instant -- on how wonderful it is to be taken care of when you're sick, and how incredibly short the window of time in your life is when someone DOES actually stay with you and take care of you. Has there ever been a time in your adult life when you've been miserably sick and you haven't wished that your mom or dad were there to take care of you? Isn't it always what you wish for?

And so I stayed home with him and made him scrambled eggs, and hot tea with honey; I played board games and watched some tv with him, and sat reading next to him while he read. I wrapped him in blankets and got his pillows for him and made him put down his book and close his eyes for a while (*just in case* some sleep might follow!). And he, even he who is growing up and becoming independent and wanting to do things himself, was grateful.

Raising a teen is an interesting journey. I think it's challenging to balance giving and expecting independence with giving support. No, not babies any more, but still not adults. It's OK to want both things, I tell him -- to want to do it yourself and to want help. And so that's the journey we keep taking together.

366

A fresh set of 366 days to do with what we will.

The size of a year

Letting go on New Year's Eve is always hard for me; how can, really, another year have passed? How did I let it slip away without doing (insert impossibly long list here of things I thought I should have done)? I have found that it helps, in good years and even in awful ones, to go through the images and use them as a guide to remembering what was and to think about what could be, in the year ahead. I also always realize at about this point -- 3:00 in the afternoon -- that I should have started this a few days ago in order to do it justice, but I guess it's an honest reflection of me that "done" counts for enough. Maybe next year I'll start sooner and be more eloquent, but without further regret I trip through the 2011 that was:


January

SO much snow last winter! It's amazing to think that a year ago today we were pretty much snowed in.

Going from the top of our steps near the driveway...


...to the bottom, in an instant, gleefully.


A trip to Boston with family to see the Cirque du Soleil show Dralion, and a lunch out.

The mountain of snow at the end of the driveway; the last bit did not melt until June. By this point, really, we were so tired of snow and storms and especially of shoveling that we couldn't imagine we'd ever see green again.

February
More snow, and you know it's serious when even your snow-loving 12-year-old is fed up.

Dean absolutely shone in his class' production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' and he was particularly proud of having mastered a Shakespeare play.

Silliness on my birthday, as usual.

Dean baked my cake, and...
...even handled the decoration.

I've never had a better birthday cake (it was chocolate cake with mocha frosting).

March

Everyone was so thankful to see shoots pushing their way up and the snow receding. Still had some storms, but spring felt miraculous this time around.

A typical mid-winter morning at our house.

April
The soccer season began again and Dean was a new man on the field. Suddenly much more aware of the bigger picture on the field, much more aggressive to the ball, and much better at making good decisions once he got the ball. His team went all the way to the semi-finals in their division. This picture captures Dean as a mid-fielder -- surrounded by opponents but faster to the ball.
Turning 13 didn't change his personality or his passions.



We took him on his first trip to New York City; not a fan of heights, he really hated the top of the Empire State Building (it was a windy, chilly day)...

...but finding the Balto statue in Central Park made up for it. We each had our list of places to visit this trip.





And April was the month that my photos were published in this book; still an experience unlike any other for me. I thought I'd spend more time on photography this year than I did -- taking the time to do real work, rather than family-life snapshots. A reminder for 2012, then.

May

The garden was spectacular this year, and although I wouldn't have thought it at the time, I think all the winter snow must have helped bring forth flowers, like this one, that haven't come up in our yard for years.

We held Dean's birthday party in May -- a rock-wall climbing extravaganza.

June

My beloved peony, which was gorgeous in a new way daily.


We did a lot on the house this year, as I think about it. New paint job and carpet in the family room, which made Dean decide that going without any furniture could be a great way to live (expect of course this is where the tv lives, and the Wii, and maybe he *would* like to see that get set up again, after all...). Re-did the first floor bathroom (and forgot to take "before" photos and still haven't taken "after" ones), replaced the dishwasher (still waiting for delivery) and the washing machine (ugh).

The day after school was out, Dean and I headed down to Springfield, Missouri to visit my brother and his wife. Driving the boat was one of Dean's many firsts on the trip.

Me, my brother, and the biggest fish I caught all week.

Blanchard Springs Cavern, in Arkansas, is a staggeringly beautiful place -- mile after mile of caverns so detailed and varied and huge (note the staircase on the lower left) that you cannot believe it's real.
The original Steak & Shake, in case you're the sort who's impressed by such things (burger and fries and chocolate shake heaven).

My brother asked if there was anything special I wanted to do this trip, and I said I wouldn't mind stopping at a flea market or two. There is no one in the world who spoils me more, or goes as far out of his way to treat me, than my brother; I couldn't tell you how many places he took me. It seemed every time we got in the car, we *just happened* to be going by some place or other that he knew of. Dean was a trooper, and I adored it.

Mini-golf in Branson, and then too quickly...
...at the airport saying "goodbye." I so seldom see my own family that the saying goodbye is brutal for me. This was such a wonderful trip.

And the delights of June were far from over! While we were in NYC, Ken ordered us tickets for the US Men's Team vs. Spain, played right here in Massachusetts. Aside from the big smiles, please note Dean's height relative to mine in this picture. You'll understand why in November.

Can't believe I got to see Fernando Torres play,
nor that we got to see the actual World Cup trophy. Spain beat the US soundly, of course.

The spring season wrapped up for Dean. The kid on the right shows what it's like to have to try to move the ball against Dean, who had just stolen in and given it enough of a boot so that he could race to it and send it. Poetry in motion.

July

This was the month of summer camps for Dean, and work for me. We stopped for an ice cream the afternoon I picked him up from his one sleepover camp -- the rest were local day camps.

Madelyn Lori was born in June to our wonderful niece and her husband. She and Dean bonded instantly, and he showed his sweet tenderness in a whole new way.

We spent a lot of time reconstructing Lego sets that Dean was ready to part with, and sold them on ebay. Looking forward to a bit more of this next year -- the clearing out and selling, but not so much the painstaking task of reconstruction.

August


More unexpected wonders from our garden; I hadn't even planted morning glories this year, and that rose hasn't bloomed in recent memory.

We treated Ken to a night in Boston for his birthday, thinking that the mid-week break from commuting would be welcomed (he still had to work).
My attempt at a Dear Photograph project; for this one I'd say, "Dear Photograph, I can remember so clearly taking him here to visit the "Make Way for Ducklings" duck statues and he'd gleefully do his own little re-telling of the story for me, but it's hard for his teen-aged self to remember."
Fair enough, right? (You CAN see the smile behind that hand, can't you?)

September

Back to school, and almost instantly off on a hiking trip to the White Mountains. Apparently I didn't mark the freak hurricane (Irene) that passed through and left us without power for 4 days at the beginning of the month.
Back to it with the fall season (I do miss it, when we're not spending beautiful Saturdays on a pitch somewhere).

An impromptu trip into Boston to see Quidam , another Cirque du Soliel show (and another part of Ken's birthday celebration).

Not as much golf this year as we would have liked -- Ken worked most weekends and was exhausted on the few days he had off -- but we still managed a trip to our favorite local course.

Never enough walks in the woods, either, but we did our best to get out as often as we could.

October

Arthur, King of the Britons did quest for sugary treats on Halloween...

...only hours after we got power back after being out, yet again, for 4 days because of a freak October snowfall. Not that much, but heavy and wet and capable of pulling down power lines throughout the region. It was warmer outside on the steps than it was in the house at this point.

Well, it's a major part of our lives, what can I say? For the fall season he was switched from midfield to defense and he was brilliant. Truly. Not just what his mother would say -- his coach said so, too. (He's just managed to force this bigger kid off the pitch with the ball, forcing the turnover for his team. Brilliant, eh?)

We had tickets to see our local MLS team, the New England Revolution, play the Seattle Sounders (got to see Casey Keller play before retiring at the end of the season). But Dean had a party to go to and so we went on without him; he is growing up and becoming his own person, apart from us. And while we miss him, we cheer him on his own journey.

November

NOT too old, however, for the essential sport of fall.




Our commute to school is barely 8 minutes long, but these days for Dean that's enough time to get some reading in. He's always got books going.
And board games. The cooler fall weather is a welcomed reminder to get the games back out again.
Another visit with Maddie and her parents, while celebrating an early Thanksgiving with Ken's parents. No one asked him to keep her entertained, but there wasn't anything else he'd rather do.

Our walk on Thanksgiving...

...and proof of how much he's grown this year. He was still shorter than me back in June, but now he's clearly taller. I'd hoped this was still a few years off; I can't quite explain why or how it makes me feel older and short (I'm 5'8").

December
Best friends, okay? He's wondering when we're going to get to see her again.

We've been making gingerbread houses together since, I think, he was two. This was the first year he handled construction on his house entirely on his own...


...with gorgeous results. He always declines having lights in his, but I think next year he's going to go for it.My house, which Ken thinks looks like a library he'd like to visit.

My mom made these mice for me several years ago, when she was still able to get around well enough and see well enough to knit. She'd always ask me what I wanted for gifts and I'd always say I most wanted her to make me something. Although she valued the handmade, she de-valued her own work and always wanted to buy me something. I'd tell her that nothing meant more to me than what she made, and I am so grateful to have the things she made for me -- there's nothing she ever could have bought me that I would have loved more. (My own little polar bear quilt is under this mousie's feet.)

Finally got ourselves back to the Fatima Shrine this year for the breathtaking lights. They play etheral music throughout the park -- very old, Gregorian-sounding music that makes the experience very wonderfully serious and solemn while still joyful. We lit candles for those loved ones we've lost, and allowed ourselves to feel that heartache for those we wish we were still celebrating with this Christmas.

Dean sang, as always, in the school winter concert and as always he was one of the only boys' voices you could actually hear. (I don't mind that he's not following the current hair fashion at school -- just sayin'.)

Christmas Eve dinner.

Christmas morning is magic. Always.

This is how I think of these two lately -- always up to something and laughing.


And so it comes to an end. I need to go prepare our New Year's Eve dinner, and get ready to drive Dean to a friend's house. He's going to a party, but I'll be bringing him back home in time to see the ball drop in Times Square and to usher in 2012.