Our Last July in this House Comes to an End

We got a scare at the end of May. Nothing devastating, but huge in our lives, nonetheless. 

Andrew will be a senior in high school this year, so on May 28th, when our landlords told us we would need to move out soon, I cried. I had been dreading this possibility since the kids started school. It is notoriously difficult to find "affordable" housing where we live, and within our school district's boundaries. 

We have been renting our house for 19 years, which is a whole other post, but here we are, and not where I ever thought we'd be--Gen Xers who have never owned a home.

On July 2nd, our landlords agreed to our request to stay, with accommodations, and that we could live here for another year. I had been holding my breath all of June. I am grateful and relieved. And here we are.

I've been doing a bit of decluttering nearly each day of my summer break from my teaching job. The dates on papers at the bottom of piles are from 2018, the year I went back to work. Makes sense. In all honesty, I haven't filed anything since we moved here. Hubby did some filing about...15 years ago or so. I have boxes in various places throughout the house where I would typically put all the mail and documents I needed to save right before company came for Christmas each year, 2006-2017!

I have given myself such a hard time over the years for not being more organized. In fact, that was pretty much the theme of my first year or more of blogging. I am actually a very organized person, when I have the time and energy. I always tell my kids that they will be amazed at how nice and neat our house is someday. And we now have a timeline to that day because there is nothing like moving to force you to purge stuff and get organized (we moved several times before living in this house).

I hope hope hope our next move is into our own home. After the first of the year, we will start looking in earnest. 

~*~*~

So, that is the backstory to why I am writing a blog post after nearly 1.5 years. Each day since July 2nd, I have looked around and remarked that this is the last July we will be in this house. On my neighborhood walks, I have tried to memorize the morning mist on the hills, the early evening light through the trees, the smell of bay laurel, the trickle of the river.

I told a friend the other day that the past 21+ years since Valerie was born feel like an out-of-body experience. And 19 of them have been here. So much has happened! And so fast! I can't really wrap my head around it. I mean, part of these feelings are mid-life and menopause, but my brain also goes to other places: my Grandma in her 100s, Carl Sagan quotes, the "big questions" that Andrew and I used to discuss at bedtime when he was little--but not for too long because they were kind of scary. Indeed.

I thought I might like to chronicle this last year here. Maybe add a testament to the collective of my own experience with the transition from parenting teens to young adults. My own transition to...well, we'll see, won't we.

Thoughts on The Crown

What? I haven't posted anything in nearly two years? I guess I've been busy. Very, very busy. The hours needed for my job have increased exponentially. In addition, Andrew is busier than ever, and I am his ride--at least for a few more months. Then he'll get his license and I will spend all of my time worrying. Valerie started driving a couple of years ago, at 18. I do worry about her, but I guess I'm used to it now. I'm not sure what to think about that.

So, The Crown. I finished watching it this morning and I have thoughts. 

My dear Grandma wore her hair much like Queen Elizabeth II in her later years, though my Grandma dyed hers blonde until she was in her late 90s. So, I was reminded of her quite often while watching. But it wasn't just the hairdo. My Grandma was just thirteen years older than the queen. She had a lovely home built in 1948 and most of it looked the same when she died in 2017. She loved antiques, often found at second-hand shops, and decorated her home with mostly old furniture. Watching The Crown, stepping back in time, was kind of like visiting my Grandma's house, stepping back in time.

What I'm thinking about today is how looking at the life of Queen Elizabeth is a lot like looking at the life of many matriarchs, like my Grandma. I think in the 21st century, women are just beginning to really be seen.

We are all The Queen, we just wear different crowns.

War and Peace

Today Putin invaded Ukraine. My heart is heavy. I finally finished reading War and Peace in January, so Tolstoy's writing is not far from my mind. 

Published in 1869, War and Peace is an historical fiction that takes place during the time of Napoleon's 1812 Invasion of Russia. It is also an exploration of the problems with writing history and a philosophy of why men go to war. 

And here we are today. I feel a sense of foreboding similar to my memories of the 1980s Cold War era, yet so grateful for my good fortune to see a peaceful view outside my window rather than destruction.

Almost Halfway

Just a quick update on War and Peace. Still reading it, but almost halfway through. I'm on page 586 of 1350. I very much want to watch the mini series with James Norton and Lily James, so trying to read a bit each day.

I did not have to wear reading glasses when I started this book, but now I do. I got these Lulu Guinness frames at the optometrist's the last time I was there in April of 2019. I didn't *really* need them at the time because my vision was still better than 20/20. But I was noticing something was up and my insurance covered it, so why not. In the image, the color looks pink, but it's really red.

So this quick update turned into a digression on reading glasses. I have an optometrist appointment coming up soon and it will be depressing, I'm sure, but also--new specs! I want retro and green or blue or tortoiseshell. Now that I wear them during my Zoom meetings for work, might as well have a little fun!

Another Circle

Yep, still reading War and Peace. Last summer I also read Beatriz Williams' Her Last Flight. And I currently have her latest, Our Woman in Moscow, still in it's mailer in the entryway (along with a lot of other stuff).

Ideally, I should finish W&P first, right? I am on page 403 of 1308. And I looooooooove it. 

But honestly, my heart has broken so many times this past year--for reasons political, social, and personal--it's just been hard to concentrate.

And Tolstoy isn't going anywhere. Isn't that wonderful?

Popcorn

The sugar plum tree in front of our house has popcorned. 

Many years, this happens in the week of warm weather we always get in January. But this year, I waited and waited. And that was just fine with me.

Something to keep looking forward to, that I knew was going to amaze me, because it always does. That's the kind of year it's been. Marking time with the small things, the cyclical changes of nature outside my window. 

A year ago, I was visiting my mom in the hospital after hip surgery, required to grab a mask from the box on the reception counter.  I only wore them in the halls. I threw them away once outside. Weeks later, masks were scarce so I was sewing them, sending a few to my parents and sister.

I listen to NPR. I knew COVID-19 was coming way back in February. I figured it was already here. On March 9th, I predicted they would close schools the next week. My kids' last day was March 12. I was off by a few days. They haven't gone back.

And that is just fine with me. 

Oh, I want them to be able to go back. Zoom school is exhausting for everyone, and my kids are teens! I'm not worried about the academics. My daughter and son have suffered emotionally--their worlds should be expanding right now. That's where the twinge in my gut comes from. 

Our middle and high schools will likely both be open within the month for modified attendance. But there have already been close calls with the small extracurricular cohorts they have been operating, so no thank you. 

The risk to them may be statistically small, but it's still too much. Valerie should be eligible for the vaccine in May. My fingers are crossed that Andrew can be vaccinated this summer after it is deemed safe for his age group.

I got my first shot last Monday due to my educator status. My husband got his last week, at a lucky fluke word of mouth pop up clinic. He has an underlying condition that puts him at higher risk. So, that's just fine with me.

My parents and sister are vaccinated. Hope is on the horizon. But, the horizon's far off yet.

Go ahead and get some pretty new masks for summer, because we should all be wearing them for a while longer as we round a corner in this pandemic. As we turn into spring of this next year.

The past year has shown me sadness and grief and ugliness, but also perseverance--and more time together with my kids. 

And popcorn. Early in the pandemic we started family movie night every Saturday with popcorn. And if we keep it up--that will be just fine with me.

Rest

This is the view from the swing in my front yard. 

I have spent a lot of time here in the past year. Not so much in the past few months, but now that the weather is warming a bit, I'm drawn to it again. I got the cushion and pillows out of the closet. They are upholstered in warm red/brown/yellow/orange hues with shells, hibiscus, and seahorses, however. A good excuse to order some fabric to recover them.

Countless times I have come out here with my book and not read a single page.

I'm weary. I'm exhausted. Constantly, foundationally overwhelmed. Background noise. Low level static. Ringing in the ears. Dull buzz.

I think we are all quite tired, collectively. Traumatized.

So, if I may suggest, just rest. Even when you have ten thousand things to do.

Rest.

Look up at the branches and see a heart.

Swing. Breathe.

Rest.♥