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O Love, keep me warm, keep me satisfied

April 28, 2012

I heard an unbelievable story from a high school friend (via the book of faces). She lives inland in a coastal state and has a vacation house near the sea. They drove in last night and discovered a tent in their back yard, which overlooks the ocean. Not a someone-is-camping-on-my-lawn tent. A someone-is-having-a-wedding-at-my-house-and-didn’t-invite-me tent. It seems that someone got permission from the next door neighbors to do a small afternoon cocktail reception on his patio. The neighbor lives out of state and isn’t around. Instead they planned a large wedding from my friend’s house, assuming they wouldn’t be home. I’ve seen the pictures. There should be no question who owns the property. They set up a tent, and tables and chairs and were just about to bring in a dance floor when my friend and her family arrived and told them no way.

Who would do something like that? Unbelievable.

We have been cleaning up the basement and throwing things away. Throwing things away feels good. Except when they’re AJ’s little tiny chairs, the ones we bought for him before he turned 2. I still have the table, which I use in the laundry room. I have pictures of AJ and Unfocused Girl at AJ’s second birthday eating cake at that table. It’s hard to imagine they were ever small enough to sit in those chairs. I remember that birthday vividly, though. The cake had a lot of blue icing which had, er, interesting properties, which became apparent when I changed AJ’s diaper the next morning. Blue icing yields bright green poop, in case you were wondering.

The house is making me anxious and my performance review is making me anxious. And leaving makes me anxious. We are trying to pretend there is nothing going on.

Mr. Spy and I took a walk down to the river. A little flowing water is good for the soul. It is cold here. We had to bundle up. But the swallows, swooping low over the water, think it’s still spring. And the cold meant the motorboats were all docked. There was just the sound of ducks and kingfishers and water lapping around the legs of the dock. Part of why we’re so anxious about the house is that on days like this, we’re not entirely sure we want to leave.

5 Comments leave one →
  1. April 28, 2012 9:57 pm

    That wedding story had us both gaping in disbelief. And the blue icing story had me giggling. Did you ever feed AJ raisins when he was still pretty little? I fed them to my older son and well let’s just say his digestive system wasn’t quite able to process them. So they came out the other end plumped up like deformed, malignant grapes.

    Re the leaving . . well yes. We just returned from a lovely dinner with two of our closest Boston friends and frankly, I am a bit teary.Leaving will be hard.

  2. April 30, 2012 7:45 am

    Change is hard. But you are brave.
    Ron and I finally figured out something that’s helping me make the hard decisions about which mementos of our kids’ childhood we can bear to throw out. He begins the process with the “throw it all out” attitude and gradually gets more and more averse to throwing anything away until he’s comically wandering around our downstairs clutching a lamp and a paddle game, like the main character of The Jerk. I’m the opposite. I start out the process by clutching things to me and saying “all I need is this” and then gradually, as I go through the pile, I start being more willing to throw things out.
    The trick for us is to meet in the middle.
    Like with other hard things in life, the only way to find the trick that will work for you and Mr. Spy is practice.

  3. April 30, 2012 1:33 pm

    The Wife and I have the same views as Ron and Jeanne, but come to an opposite result. I want to throw everything away, and I’m so belligerent about it that the Wife, who is of the opinion that we can handle all the stuff we have if it is all put away, throws nothing away.

    Actually, that’s not exactly true. She does get rid of stuff when I’m not looking. . . .

  4. freshhell permalink
    April 30, 2012 3:04 pm

    I like to throw away. My husband hoards. The compromise is that I throw my stuff away and he keeps his.

  5. April 30, 2012 6:01 pm

    I think I’m like Jeanne — as the deadline approaches, I become more and more willing to through things out. And I usually don’t miss it, either. And it is actually nice to have fewer things. But moving is hard — I hate it, myself. And it sounds like it’s nice there — although it will be nice where you’re going, too, although very very different.

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