I journaled for years on paper and I expect to be doing it in some form until my last days. In short summary, I teach mindfulness to parents of kids with challenges; I garden as often and as much as I can in Wisconsin and I am working through the threads of grief six years after my husband’s death. I am very grateful for finding and chasing the joy in this unexpected life.
Done and done!*
House sold.
Nineteen viewings and an open house beginning Friday evening and ending Monday around 5:15. Rather unintentionally, I met the buyers just before I left the open house on Sunday. I showed them the garage and we talked a bit about the gardens. I hear they stayed for the entire 2-hour open house. Monday morning, they came for a second viewing at 8 am and just before midnight the house was theirs. Continue reading
Strangers are walking through my house. My very clean and pristine house. My almost not-my house. They did it yesterday for hours and hours and we stayed away. They did it yesterday with their Real Estate agents and no one with any connection to the house was there.
I know it’s done that way. I’ve done it. Still, it’s creepy.
Today, open house. My agent is there. Much more comfort knowing that she can . . . . I’m not sure what? Protect? Defend? Make sure it is safe? Direct traffic. Continue reading
House on sale today. The listing.
The House: Staged. Stripped of it finery. My finery. Even the periwinkle walls of my bedroom are bleached white. Adorned with ersatz tchotchkes and fake ferns. Upstairs hall echos when I call up to Julia in the morning. The ethos of the house is a disturbing dream of a home I have abandoned but not left. Dali or Esher-like?
Me: tired, grumpy, stressed. Discovering how home is rooted in the art on my walls and the books on their shelves. Terrified that the pace of change is picking up. Yes, I know, I pushed that stone down the hill. Continue reading
I haven’t found time to write all week. I’m a little off my game and way too intense. It’s all about the work of getting ready for sale. My house, quickly becoming “the” house, will go on the market March 15. Ok, there may be some wiggle room but around then. I’ve been in the basement all week sorting, tidying and chasing cobwebs. Stuff. All that stuff that I put to one side after finishing my big basement cleanup 7 years ago. I didn’t know what to do with that stuff then and unfortunately, gremlins didn’t steal into the basement and take disposition into their own hands. In truth most of that ‘stuff’ should go into the trash with just a bit that might be useful going to St. Vinnie’s. But how to trash a statue of the BVM, won in a third grade catechism bee, whose base is so chipped she doesn’t stand anymore? If she was small I’d put her on my meditation altar but she is tall, would dominate the eye candy and would fall over. I make piles, then divide the piles, clear out the trash piles, stuff the St. Vinnie piles into bags and put those in my car trunk, and then repeat. Piles of stuff are slowly diminishing, moving boxes are mating and begetting. Continue reading
Curiosity. Perhaps that is the theme for the month, maybe the year.
In Mare Chapman‘s class last fall, (wonderful teacher, by the way) a discussion about feeling ‘less than’ led me to tell the story of my brother challenging my ability to do a task because I was a woman. One of my classmates asked what I would say to my brother today if he said the same thing to me today and I was silent. When I admitted that I had no idea what to say, she offered, “I’d ask, ‘Why would you think that?’” Her answer/question stunned me because it was so simple and yet, so far from my grasp.
Simple curiosity! Continue reading
When I go to open the journal/blog file and it is not in the “most recent” list, I know for sure it has been too long. My fingers ache with my scribbling deficiency but my head is stuffed with Earth Science facts, easy algebra and a lesson on loving myself from James Baraz.
Lately, I have not been happy. A bit overwhelmed and second guessing myself about my big decisions. Dissatisfied and pining for a different life. This morning, life is good! Continue reading
I make resolutions. I have know people who have not approved of this habit, some pretty vocally. And I still do it. I like setting goals and I am not undone failing to reach them. I’ve lived in Julia’s therapy world for a long time and when she does not meet a therapy goal set within the prescribed time, it is either carried on or modified. So too, my resolutions. Certainly, the resolution to consider or contemplate home which has been on my resolution list long before I began posting resolutions is a perfect example. From the time I left NYC for the midwest, I’ve puzzled over the idea of home. NYC was home. Now, the pieces fit. Home is simply where the love is—family and friends and warm community. Madison has been home, first because it was where David and I lived together and then because I was determined to reclaim life and be a part of the community. Of course, I’ve known this intuitively for a long time—such a Dorothy moment. And these days, my eyes are fixed on Boston as home, a home as precious and satisfying as Madison has been. Continue reading
Yesterday’s solstice. The days are gray, almost dark enough to need lights in the house all day. By 3:45, artificial light is mandatory and by 4:30 the sun set. I put on out window, porch and tree lights for the night and left them on until the morning. I want to be part of the calling in the light. Continue reading
It was cold last night, only a few degrees colder than it was the night before. At least, I think so. And the thermostat was not set particularly low. But we shivered through supper and homework. Julia had had a moderately challenging day—she was late for study hall, her stomach hurt during reading and she still couldn’t present her earth science project due to some IT problem with her powerpoint. She had math and earth science homework and a Death of a Salesman test to study for, and it was admittedly harder than usual to catch her attention. Once she was working, she was fine, though her processing speed slowed to a half crawl at times. But we got through it all. She was incredibly tired which has become the new normal more than half her days. I’m not sure if it is that without the ADHD meds, her body runs down sooner, or that she is exhausted from working harder to concentrate on any form of work throughout the day, or something else. Continue reading
Not a wave, not everything I wanted, but a check and possibility a balance and a call to accountability by at least one house of Congress. Possibilities that did not exist yesterday. It is politics and you never get everything you want. In 2016, there was nothing for me. Today, Julia is over joyed that Scott Walker is out—8 years, or is it 28, of union busting, gutting Wisconsin schools and selling the state to the highest bidder could possibly stop. It saddens me to see how much of the country is still red in the worst way. Not the conservatives of my youth (that I did not agree with but respected) but a racist, misogynist, white national basket of deplorables with leaders ready to lie and manipulate almost without reason and certainly for political expediency. Still, the deplorables and their leaders have ushered in a wave of opposition that has been depressed and despondent since 2016 and uninvolved for a good long time. Women and people of color have stepped up and I believe that they are here to stay. Brava! Bravo! Walking outside this morning, I felt Madison breath a sigh of relief—shoulders look a bit lower, music sounds a bit more vibrant, the cold air feels a bit cleaner. There is tittering in the coffee shop this morning and a shit-eating grin on my face.
Now to work.
Chasing Joy 