Reconstruction
The discovery of our old life in the old house is rocking my psyche like the archeological find of the century this morning. It is disheveled and tattered with pieces missing, but recognizably there. After I opened the coop to clear the morning flight path for the established flock, I went into the old house in search of odds and ends I have yet to move. As I wandered the wreckage I found myself feeling more secure as wondered if the children, too, would gain from remembering the Grand Parties when this old farm wasnae any more, nor less than the greatest vacation spot on Earth. As a camping spot, the leaks and creaks were more adventure than threat.
Cleaning out the mess isnae very high on the LFL. It isnae even an item on this week's priority list. So far, we havenae an accord on its next incarnation. We see what grows. For now, she is but an old friend, biding her time while we busy ourselves elsewhere.
We see what grows.
Replies
There appears to be plenty of seeds for positive flowers to bloom, Arfie. The old house seems like a good place to start a healing memory garden for you, hubs and GKs.
Hugs, support & love, my friend
For today, settling the new house for tomorrow's return feels like more than enough. The ship is feeling reasonably tight for a virgin voyage. Hubs and I are piddling at a restful pace. Settling in is best done at a piddle pace.
Big Sis has her 4th birthday the day between their return from winter vacation tomorrow and their return to school on Wednesday. I'm almost stuperstitious about 4th birthdays and a child's development of time references. It feels important to commemorate that 4th birthday but, girl howdy, I feel whelmed and I'm betting dollars to wishes that Big Sis is at least as over-stimulated as I am.
Hubs and I bought her the family traditional birthday pinata and the goodies to stuff it. We plan to wrap one of the Christmas donations we placed discretely on a closet shelf in birthday wrap. Add in the birthday banner and I believe that is commemoration enough. At least, that's my prayer and I'm sticking to it.
I think 4th birthdays are big, arfie. When I was a day care center teacher for 2 to 4 year olds, turning 4 seemed like the birthday when kids passed a threshold. It seemed to be the first birthday that most kids remembered best to date. The pinata sounds like fun. I was invited into a Christmas Posada party here in Mexico and was assigned pinata busting duties that evening, and it was fun even for this 61 year old. It'll surely be fun for her, too. All the best with that birthday and all matters transition from the old house to the new.
So much has been accomplished in such a short time. The home coming and birthday are much to celebrate. Support and prayers.
Pinatas get my vote as the greatest party favor in the world. Both of my sons got a pinata for every birthday I was invited to. The son who left me his children when he died in September was openly grateful to me for continuing that tradition for his children. They do make quite a bang, both literal and figurative.
While moving the party goods today, I realized my compulsive metaphor mixing got me again. The pinata is a cute little puppy dog. The modest party decorations are a "Hello Kitty" theme. Leave it to mix cats and dogs. . .
The son's in-laws are in true form today. We had been guessing that they would be on their best behavior for this visit because of the Permanency Hearing next week. Possibly they even have been, but today's long-winded, excuse-filled voice mail over why they cannot manage the return trip added another item to the docket. I guess I'm investing tomorrow in the day trip to pick up the GKs. The fun just never ends. I reckon the good news is this will be noted in next week's hearing. Are they still lawyered up? Guess we'll find out next week. Hubs is planning to make the hearing in a day trip dash while I run the school train on my own for the day.
We still haven't answered the other grandfather's voice mail. Prolly won't until this evening. Let 'em sweat. . .
Meanwhile, tomorrow's preparatory grocery haul just got expedited. Is there a worse time to shop for groceries than Sunday afternoon?