This is the last day that I have daycare for Henry and a full day to myself before the move. Snowdrop is usually with me Friday afternoons but she has her very first school dance today and so no pickup is required.
Do you remember your first school dance? I certainly remember mine! I was almost 13. In those days, boys asked girls to dance. Most everyone got asked because no boy (or girl) wanted to be seen hugging a wall. We moved to the music with preadolescent awkwardness. No touching. Just bobbing to whatever record was playing.
I wondered if Snowdrop was into dancing. I had asked her yesterday and she said she didn't intend to actually dance. Ha! I said that going wild on the dance floor was the best release of the crazies for me back in the days when I had plenty of crazies within me. I had my signature moves! My daughters still make fun of them: so 1960s, they tell me! Go wild, I tell her. I doubt she'll listen. My advice always sounds to her so grandmotherly. Sweet, but easy to dismiss as belonging to another era.
So, a free day to finally make inroads on packing and shuttling things to the farmhouse. Henry is up extra early, which, I suppose is a good thing, though I didn't think so at the moment when he came up to lick whatever extremity was available to him from under the quilt.
The local grocery co-op carries a muesli I'd never seen before and I had purchased it with the high hope of using it for a mock Bircher Muesli which I never seem to have the time or motivation to make. It's good, but not the real thing.
Henry hugs.
And so long as I'm on the topic of dogs (am I ever not on the topic of dogs?), while I shared the couch with Henry, I read this story in the NYTimes about moving to Europe with a dog. I've gifted it for you because I do believe it will give you at least one chuckle and many feelings of warmth and compassion.
And we are off to doggie daycare!
A few errands and I'm back at the apartment. Packing. Wasn't it clever of me to really dig into this while the Olympic events unfolded on the screen? (Coincidence, but a very pleasant one.) I'm thinking how hard it must be to be a parent of an Olympian. The expense, the stress, the crazy schedule, the worry, the hope. Perhaps that's why it's so pleasant to watch a skater like the American Alysa Liu. She likes competition, claiming not to feel pressure, but instead -- joy. Alysa was raised by her father. It is thought that he spent between half a million and a million dollars on her training, raising the perennial question -- can you become an Olympian in America if you're not born to a family with resources to support you?
I drive over to the farmette, loaded down with boxes, pictures, toys. And once again I stop by Sally's House, because a snow shovel had been delivered there early. Leaving boxes on the front doorstep seems like not a good idea. I see someone is there again. And I have this wild idea! I ring the doorbell. A worker answers -- I think she's part of the drywall crew. I tell her I'm moving in this Monday and I have with me all these boxes. Might I maybe leave them in the garage? Perhaps she didn't fully understand me, but my eyes were anxiously pleading and she responded to that with a smile. She nodded a yes and opened the garage door for me. And that's how I got my first delivery to my new home.
(from apartment...)
(straight to new home!)
I do pause at the farmhouse to talk politics with Ed for a few minutes and then it's back to packing at the apartment. And yes, it does finally feel like I'm moving. That feeling you have when you realize what a bother it all is! Still, I have to smile at this next change of address. Thinking back to August 1st -- a day where we were celebrating birthdays and watching the kids do Shakespeare on stage, I would have laughed out loud then if someone had said -- you know, in the next 12 months you will be living in four different places. Four separate addresses. And each time, you'll think you have figured it all out, but no: in a few months you will move again.
I pick up Henry. Can he tell the house is in disarray? I've hidden signs of packing so I hope not. These are the last few days of calm before the storm of change. I have your back, Henry! Believe me, I wont lose track of where you're at, what you may need. You too, Sadey. No second violin status for you! You'll always be my best pup girl!
with so much love...
