Archive for May, 2010

Rest…

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

So, the last few months have been hard. I won’t share all the gory details, but there’s been a big and sudden move, and career shifts, and the end of school, and too much travel, and some serious belt-tightening.  One of those times you say, “We’ll be glad this all happened,” and also, “The only thing that matters is we’re healthy and we love each other.”

And those things are both true, but man-oh-man, it’s been complicated, and tiring.  Lots of dodging and weaving, lots of navigation.

And now, I’m sitting in Baltimore, on the last leg of my travel.  I came up for a wedding and a work-thingy-in-New York.  But they’re over, so the boys are splashing in the pool, and playing in the dirt, and I’m catching up on email, and processing the last eight weeks.  I have one last school visit tomorrow, and my awesome sister’s birthday party, but after that…

I’m going to drive home slowly, stare at the highway, and breathe,

And then I’m going to rest and write and get my house in order. I’m going to cook some real meals. I’m going to go to the library. I’m going to shop at the farmer’s market. I might make curtains from old sheets.

I’m not going to travel for two whole months!!!

I’m sure your kids are cute…

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

But mine are cuter…

Dear house…

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

I’m leaving you tonight, after 6 years of joy and change.

My children were born in  you. My career as an author was begun in your kitchen. My marriage too.

You have never been quite the right house–always a little isolated, your street a little busy. But you have been, in the end, perfect.  The last 6 years have been the very happiest years of my life, and I can’t help being a little scared to leave you. Because I can’t know what the next house will be, or bring to me.

The only time I have lived so long under a single roof, I was a child.  I’m not a child now, but I feel like one tonight, as I sleep for the last time within your very happy walls.

Thank you, house.  I had no idea what you’d mean to me. No clue at all.