THIS WEEK IN REFLECTION
Like, I knooooow stuff happened this week, but all I can think of is on Thursday we bought a house. Sit in a conference room, sign fifty thousand documents you don’t understand, and then a stranger slides you a key — like, bought-bought a house. But the odd thing is you don’t feel like you bought the house. It’s far from being paid off, someone else possessed it not five minutes ago, realtors and prospective buyers walked all up in it. And now it’s yours because of some paper??? (well, and a substantial money wire). Weeeeeird.
It was St. Patrick’s Day, so things felt fortuitous. The previous homeowner, 87-year-old Marjorie, brought two of her “kids,” likely in their early 60s, to the closing, and they gave us a “welcome to your new home basket,” which I did not know was a thing. Was I supposed to get them a “goodbye and thanks for all the fish” type of present??? Did we biff our first moments as homeowners???????
The tiny old lady had moved into the house we bought in 1953, which means she must have gotten married right out of school and moved into that house and made more people, and those four people she made were too many people, so they built a house right next door on the same property. And thus the lady who owned what is now my house lives on the other side of my driveway. It took so long to close on the house because her little bit of land and the house she lives in needed to be separated legally. Imagine she owned a whole brownie, took a bit out of it, and then sold us the rest. That’s not meant to be gross, I just want you to picture a rectangle of land that had a little piece taken out of it and we bought the rest.
So when we went to our house that night, surely she was in her house right next door, peeking at us through the blinds and thinking what wonderful kids we are. That physical closeness, and having a new mortgage, made us feel like we were gallivanting in a forbidden structure, as if we crawled through the windows to access it rather than properly entered by unlocking the front door with a Spiderman key (yes, the 87-year-old lady gave us a Spiderman key) like proper homeowners. Weeeeeird.
We touched things more carefully, we opened cupboards and closets more curiously, alone, in our house. You do not investigate the house with the same eyes when you have a realtor or home inspector hanging behind your shoulder. For instance, there are three bedrooms. Two are identical but mirrored, but now we’ve noticed one has a much shorter shelf and bar in the closet, and that’s how we decided that room is mine.
To clarify, Nick and I share a bedroom, but because he wakes up earlier than me, we put clothes in a different room to avoid blasting the sleeping person with light. Plus, we each have our own “office.” Mine will have a laptop and Jason Voorhees mask, Nick’s will have a desktop screen and 3-D printer. Okay, we didn’t need ALL this space, but you find me a two bedroom house in South Bend that doesn’t look like it has a nervous disposition. Looking out my window, we saw a herd of deer and promptly yelled at them to get out of our dang field, ya’hear? Next, there is a meeting to introduce ourselves to our farmer, who will continue to rent the acreage, and on Monday it’s a meeting to get a quote from a plaster and painting guy for how much it will cost to repair our walls.
And then, you know, Friday Nick had an all-day interview because it’s down to three candidates for a job that is much above his current position — no sweat. OMG. My heart is beating all kindsa funny, literally. When I get to my yearly doctor’s appointment next week I half expect her to tell me I’m mostly dead. I have not eaten well the past 72 hours. And I definitely ate all the Andes chocolates in the St. Patrick’s themed “welcome home” basket. I kept thinking of Anne @ I’ve Read This and knowing she would approve.
THIS WEEK’S BLOG POSTS
Although I reviewed Where the Dog Star Never Glows by Tara L. Masih first this week, all the attention went to The Unapologetic Fat Girl’s Guide to Exercise and Other Incendiary Acts by Hanne Blank. I have no regrets. The more I write book blog posts that focus on experience instead of measuring the qualities of book, the more you guys respond. I now know loads more about you, like Amal @ The Misfortune of Knowing ran through law school, and Bill @ The Australian Legend thirty years ago used trucker drugs that made him thin (and probably drive all night wired like an electric fence (Bill, you know how I feel about you — “watch out for deer”)), and for Stephanie @ A Stone in the River getting to full-time bike-riding seems like a journey unto itself!
By reading the comments I also realized that while elementary school physical fitness made us all feel excited to move around in our bodies, middle school destroyed all the joy, and high school reinforced that happy movement is reserved for those in competitive sports. No wonder we all feel haggard and lost in regards to exercise. Biscuit didn’t even find her favorite, Zumba, until she was in her fifties, probably because like all normal humans she couldn’t do a pull-up in school. Knowing Biscuit moves with joy is an inspiration to me.
NEXT WEEK’S BLOG POSTS
The online Zora Book Club, Gathering and Gabbing, met again this week to discuss Zora! A Woman and Her Community, compiled and edited by N.Y. Nathiri. This book, full of glossy pages with color photos, has information about Hurston’s roots in Eatonville, how Zora got buried after passing in poverty, the history of “race colonies” established by people of African descent, and a speech by Alice Walker given at the first annual Zora Neale Hurston Festival. My thoughts on Tuesday.
Stacey Levine writes some wild stories, which may leave you with few details, all puzzling, or she might obsess over one troubling image. As a reader, you sit there contemplating if there is a deeper meaning only to realize there doesn’t have to be. My thoughts on Thursday.
BOOKS ADDED TO THE TBR PILE
Owned Books on TBR at Beginning of Year: 202
Owned Books on TBR Last Week: 188
Owned Books on TBR Today: 187
No new books added to TBR.