Living is no laughing matter

(Birgit Puve for The New York Times)
ALL OF MY GOALS ARE PRESENT IN THIS PHOTO

Gearing up for the month of November, when it's my tradition to write something in this blorg every single day. The summer was a rush of rabbit rabbits, apparently — and that's how it feels looking back, fleeting and sweet and bright. Oh, summer.

Changes

What a luxury to have a little time to prepare for change! Gus will die of lymphoma, but he is 100% dog right now, happy to walk and bark and eat and lie around in the yard and ride in the car and wrestle with Clover. He is receiving a few last chemo treatments, but they aren't too hard on his body. The last couple of nights it took him forever to work up the resolve to climb the stairs at bedtime (he's always always needed a running start). I don't know if the chilly weather is making him stiffer than usual (if so, I can sympathize). Anyway, it's sad to hear him crying as he tries to psych himself up to do it.

Mom and Dad are moving to North Carolina, and not to jinx it, but they got to have the bidding war of their dreams on their beautiful Cambridge condo. They came to stay for a week while all the open houses were happening, and I think aside from possibly a Christmas or two, it was the longest they've ever stayed with us. Despite my dad's motto about fishes and visitors and how they smell after three days, it was so fun.

The air turned so cold that I put the heat on Friday night for the extremely quick fly-by visit of Holly and Maia, despite the fact that there are still air conditioners in two windows and most of the storm windows aren't closed. Leaves turning, birthdays approaching, my favorite most bittersweet time of year.

Challenges

My weird work life sometimes throws up these challenges, and it's my habit to accept each one breezily and then spend some private time panicking about what I've committed myself to, before ultimately pulling it off somehow. It's so regularly terrifying that it feels like it should pay better. But probably it's good for me?

Creatures

Mark is out of town for a few days and Clover loves me more when he's away! My yard is full of little brown sparrows.

Idée fixe

The period of mourning was not quite decently long enough before I started feverishly scouting Petfinder and other online dog porn. In fact, the depth and severity of my mourning for my best friend intensified my desire for a new dog--not in six months, not in a year, but now. I've found myself at loose ends, partly because work is light right now, partly because I just didn't feel like doing things I should be doing. To tell you the truth, I felt like climbing back in bed every day, although that made me sad too because the only things Minnow loved more than a good nap were a romp on the beach or something delicious to eat.* If only I had a dog who needed to be walked! So, as it turns out, sometimes you start looking for a puppy and before you know it, you have paid the fee for a rescue puppy and he is scheduled to be delivered to your general geographical area in two weeks.

These two things happened on the same day: I made a commitment to give this puppy a home, and I picked up Minnow's ashes from the vet. Which I handled with calm aplomb until I got to my car with the earthly remains of my friend.

But this new guy, this rescued pup! His name as of now is Augustus, but we're taking suggestions and will cast some kind of family vote once we've met him. He is about five months old, probably mostly Golden Retriever. He will be delivered to Connecticut on October sixth. I am so excited to meet him.

Plus:

I am seventy-seven percent sure I saw a heron in the Fore River as I flew past in my car en route to Target to buy boring paper products yesterday. It was a crazy long long necked seabird for sure. (The Dancer has a knack for naming such birds with great authority when we are walking around the Back Cove. I will see a funny bird and say, "Ooooh, what kind of bird is that?" And she will say, "Oh, that's a long-legged bluebilled tree hugger," or whatever.)

Today I walked to the library, bought myself a coffee at Speckled Ax, walked home. It was a beautiful day with a sky all October-colored.



*See? Soul mates. Although I don't have a taste for snotty tissues, his favorite.

there is winter to heed

well, she's off again. after a whirlwind winter break, the girl headed back to school by way of oneonta, where she'll enjoy a week with max in his new (to him) cabin at pine lake. for him, it's the start of a january term, and for her it will be a week of cooking, reading, banjo practice, walks in the countryside, and no doubt a visit or two to the sauna. zoë's classes start january 17th, so at some point before that she'll hop on a bus back to the city. it was wonderful having her here, and i miss her. i had to buy some stuff at target yesterday, and while i was there i missed her (why at target? i don't know! i just imagined us strolling through target, laughing together at absurdities and so on). this morning i sadly threw out the tiny bit of indian rice left in the fridge from our new year's feast, which was marked on the top with a label in hindi, and missed her. over the next few months we're going to move isaac into zoë's (bigger) bedroom, which is great and makes sense and all, but... oh, you know. i am surprised when i feel at all sad about her moving off into the world, since i am such an old hand at saying goodbye to her, and since i (consciously) feel purely joyful about her happiness, her enthusiasm, ideas for the future, plans, hopes, ambitions. it's so happy, and it's so hard.


a sunset of the city, gwendolyn brooks

down the road to the next place

oh, friends with young children, i've been thinking of you a lot this past week. i've been imagining how theoretical it must seem to you that a person would have a child who would be getting ready to don a backpack and get on a plane to thailand, and then to india, and who would be planning to spend six months in a country you have only read about, a place you yourself will very likely never actually see. can i just tell you that you will wake up one day and there will be something to the effect of "(your child) to bangkok" on your calendar, three days hence?

details: first, our dining room table covered in stuff, pre-packing. second, that's max's backpack. third and fourth, zoë in her carry-on pack (her actual backpack is much larger, though the thing weighs about two pounds fully packed). she's wearing her sun hat. after i took these pictures, she dyed her hair dark brown, so i'll be needing to document that in the next three days.

boo's room

as requested, here are some photos of boo's new room layout. below is the view from his doorway; his low bed is on the right, his bookshelf/vinyl toy shelf is straight ahead, and april lives atop his dresser on the left. note the legos tucked into the corner.



















the view from his closet -- he needs some cool big art on that green wall!



















here is his bed and a long table made into a headboard/bottlecap collection display area/media center (see the famous hamburger phone?):

change

things change. that’s the beauty and the sorrow of impermanence. philip glass said that. today boo and i moved his room all around, cleaned like crazy, got rid of some stuff, and even transformed his bed from a platform near the ceiling to a platform flat on the floor. it looks great!

first day of school

ohhhh, my baby's off to middle school. and yes, i'm nearly as teary-eyed as that fateful day i dropped him off at kindergarten and then wept all the way home in the car.

and the weather is behaving appropriately for the first day of school/end of summer: my fingers are frozen and i'm shivering inside a big sweater.

congratulations, boo!

yesterday, he graduated from elementary school! i am so proud of him, and excited about his future adventures in middle school. there was a nice ceremony, at which the vice principal mispronounced boo's last name, which is pretty funny if you know what boo's last name is: she pronounced it "how." he spent the day skating at happy wheels, enjoying a pizza party, and getting his yearbook signed by his friends. i suspected that i would bawl, as i did after dropping him off at kindergarten on his very first day of school, but i restrained myself.

what makes me happiest: he doesn't mind hugging me (even kissing me!) in public. at school, even!


in other news, we built a funky little deck in our back yard. and painted it orange!



















no, no -- stay with me, here. we are going to paint the bench to the left another bright color -- red, perhaps? we are going to put up a crazy fence. by crazy, what do i mean? well, it'll probably be corrugated metal. and to the right, imagine if you will, a trellis with something viney and flowery on it, like clematis. we're rescuing one of the round silver tables from cbb, some chairs, and we've got lots of pots for plants. it's going to be fabulous, just you wait!

what we're doing

1. wrapping up the clean-up and closing of cbb, including selling shelves and tables and bringing home the things we can use here. for example, the big school table which originally came from hall elementary school and at which the wifi users liked to park themselves all day will come live in our basement as our brand new gift-wrapping/craft table! once the largest things are out of the store space, we'll clean it like crazy. our landlord has been showing it to prospective tenants, but he has encouraged us to take our time clearing out of there.

2. keeping milo in maine chugging along -- i am finishing an order from little paper planes (what a great site! if you want to buy one of our shirts, consider ordering from there, because we'd like them to keep on placing orders from us).

3. m is actively looking for a job, and i am mentally looking for a job. meaning, i'm trying to figure out what it is i'm looking for, exactly -- part time, full time?

4. part of the reason this is a dilemma is that i'm mulling over what i'll do when i grow up. i am considering going back to school. more on this later!

5. throwing trash in our beloved dumpster. we have gone through stuff in our basement that's been sitting there untouched for eight long years, determining what to keep, throw away, or sell in our hypothetical yard sale. it feels so good to do this. i've found some treasures down there, including summer clothes of mine which i've been unable to locate for the last three summers; and many works of art by bean and boo from when they were really little -- i should scan some of them here. i found a drawing by a lion king-obsessed bean which was titled, "nala hangs some clothes on the clothesline." there's a whole series of lion families doing ordinary, everyday tasks. so cute!

6. getting ready to celebrate boo's eleventh birthday this weekend!

low moment

i'll just describe one for you: m and i were in the-space-formerly-known-as a couple of days ago, just to grab a book fixture and bring it home (it's a tall, skinny one which fits nicely on a small wall beside our bedroom closet). for some reason, it was suddenly so depressing to be there -- the air felt weird, the place is empty and dirty. it's so much the opposite of when we were opening the store, painting the floor, putting down the carpet, bringing in the brand new shiny fixtures, counters, cafe equipment... anyway, we stuck the shelf in our car, sticking a little bit out the back of the hatchback, and i was carefully pulling out of the parking lot, when some office lady jumped into her minivan and threw it into reverse. i did some fancy maneuvering, chanted "jesus jesus jesus," and neglected to remember that my car has a horn. she did bump into us, but just barely scratched scooby's side (thanks to the aforementioned fancy maneuvers). m jumped out to check out the damage and told the office lady that it didn't look like anything was hurt. she said, "well, sorry, i guess. i mean, i guess it was my fault." and m, my hero, said, "oh yeah. it was definitely your fault."

and that's the end of my low moment story. see, it was just a moment, being depressed in the store space and then furious at all stupid people and humanity in general while in the parking lot. then we went home, installed our shelf in our room, and made soy lattes.

happy may day

during a brief (kansan) period of my childhood, we actually made little baskets of flowers and put them on people's doorsteps on may day. maybe it was just one year, but i remember it as if it was one of those things we always used to do. wouldn't it be nice to dance around a maypole right about now?

speaking of dancing, check out my flickr photos of bean and her posse at rock n roll sushi, post-formal dance this weekend. isn't she the purtiest?

yesterday was a better day at the location-formerly-known-as-casco-bay-books, from what m reported. our friend dancer lady helped him box up most of the books, and we took a bunch of them to the library (which will accept donations of up to five boxes at a time, and you can just put them on the loading dock). we have six boxes for the itty bitty library at bean's school, too. we found a wonderful home for several counters, and another home for a table or two. next project = bring home the espresso machine and put it on the kitchen counter. just to, you know, see how it feels to have it here. basically, does it overwhelm the entire kitchen? is there really room for it? do we care??

waste

m and i just realized this morning that the city will haul away "storm debris" if it's out by the curb before april 30th (that would be tomorrow). so we got to work dragging all the branches and brush that the storm tossed into our yard. the saddest part of all was coming to terms with the fact that our two aged lilacs are pretty much completely destroyed, just crushed by the 100 foot pine tree which fell on them. we're trying to salvage part of one of them, a sad skinny trunk leaning over to one side, but we cut up and hauled many, many budding lilac branches out to the street. i don't know how old they were, but they're pretty huge, with very thick trunks all twisted together, and they were the prettiest things in our yard.

the resulting pile of "storm debris," which can't be hanging into the street or covering the sidewalk, is kind of beautiful, like a natural wood fence or a long sculpture of some kind.

the really good part is that we are not only full of cleanup energy and ready to really tidy up our yard, once and for all, but that the insurance company is sending us some money for "cleanup," with which we can finally rent the dumpster we've been dreaming of! i am so much in the mood to throw things away...

roller coaster

i'm not sure that's the perfect metaphor for the way this week has felt, actually. roller coasters are pretty fun. exhilarating. the wind blows through your hair, and you say "oooooh!" you know?

we were surprised by several summer milo in maine orders which came in over the last two weeks, so i've been busy sewing those while m cleans up what's left of casco bay books, literally and figuratively. imagine you had an enormous (say, 2,000 square foot) basement full of furniture, books, magazines, cd's, hangers, t-shirts, really old computer monitors, and other assorted stuff. and that there was a hip "wet bar" down there that also needed to be scrubbed down. with a fine coating of ground coffee covering everything. and that's not the difficult part -- that would be the constant knocking on the door of well-wishers and gossip mongers. many people have had such sweet, kind things to say in response to the store's closing, which has been lovely. feeling like it was a place that really mattered to a lot of people, and that its absence will be deeply felt by them, means a lot to me. however, m has unfortunately heard many comments like "yeah, i wondered how this place stayed open as long as it did! i never thought it would make it!" which is not so helpful. he's doing a lot of deep breathing right now.

there's a nice, brief piece in the bollard about the store closing. click on "briefs" to read it.

sixty-eight degrees!?

that's what the time and temperature building claims, anyway! i haven't even gotten around to posting the pictures of our weather-related damage and mayhem last week (we lost two 100-foot pine trees on one side of our house, many fence sections, and a large number of bricks from our chimney), and here it is, summer already. i am running around opening windows and soaking in the vitamin D i've been deprived of since october. bean and boo and i are planning to walk down to salt for the vegetarian food festival today, and then we'll pay our respects to casco bay books, which closes for good this afternoon.

a new year

i am slowly changing my blog for the new year. "uh oh spaghetti-o" is SO 2006, don't you think? also, i can now be reached at meanmama.org, thrillingly enough!