Monday, January 14, 2008
So here I am at the library where I walked to for the first time from our apartment. Probably a one mile walk, or so, and it's amazing how much you miss while driving through the same ol' neighborhoods and how much more you see while strolling through them. Rather like Life, I think. Race through Life staring only straight ahead, (expecting to see only what you saw before) and well, you'll miss the serendipitous surprises everywhere along the side of the road.
I now recommend tiny one-bedroom houses to all you empty-nesters. It's like playing house everyday. It's like being ten-years-old again and using your once-neglected imagination so you can make four rooms feel like six, so you can, like a puzzle, fit all your pieces into closets and make all furniture pull double-duty.
And for me, it's like being a 1940's newlywed while I play my Benny Goodman Big Band music and do bouncy little dances down the hall with an apron tied around my waist. Oh how young I feel at those times--so of course--I avoid any mirrors in those moments lest they jerk me back to my nearly-fifty present and all this grey hair at my temples.
I have been reminding myself that I am on vacation this month. I keep telling myself it's ok to rest and do nothing or to watch my new favorite Style Network shows, Clean House and Dress My Nest. Tom and I now have broadcast cable--only $8.95 per month and around ten more stations than we picked up with our antenna at the old house. We chose broadcast to save money, which is rather ludicrous when you consider that last week Tom bought an LCD tv (at around half-off, he'd be quick to add). For me, our old tv was fine and I still lug our portable between the bedroom and the kitchen, but Tom had wanted an LCD for ages so it came from money out of the sale of our house, money which, technically is not in the bank yet. But should be this week.
I'm not sure why our house hasn't closed yet, but I'm sure that I'm thankful, for I'm still cleaning it out and sorting through the stuff and junk and nonsense left upon the shelves. And it's all taking more time than I thought, but then, we were more entrenched than I thought, too. Entrenched. But it's a nice thing to walk over to the old house, my old life, and casually, slowly, finger things which set-off instant happy memories and to clean the floors and cupboards of rooms which I'll never clean again. Rooms someday only open and available to me inside my head after I've placed the key into another's hand.
It's nice to savor this time and say good-bye slowly. For again, you remember more and feel more and appreciate anything more which you eye while slowing down.