…exactly where I am supposed to be.

• by ~summer~
• Filed Under: my life
• Date: Mar 29,2008

I don’t do limbo well. Something about the stasis of knowing that where I am is not where I’m going to be, but that I have little control over the outcome, other than to watch the clock, is at great odds with my “make it happen” personality. Escrow is limbo. You turn in your paperwork and send your people to do your bidding. And then you wait. So we are in limbo.

So in limbo, to distract ourselves and to bring ourselves a little closer to our wish, we go to the house and take measurements, both interior and exterior. We confirm our layout plans, we switch closet assignments because, Ken says, “the girl gets the bigger closet”. We wander around the lot, commenting on each gracious, old oak, the slope of the land, the placement of my garden plots and citrus trees, and the fenced area for Sadie.

We stand out front and talk about the leaking roof, falling gutters, and inefficient windows. And then we talk some more about the trees. We meet a neighbor out walking his dogs. He, with his slight european ancient, is genuinely thrilled that we are anxious to undertake the project and even more thrilled that we’ll not demo the house and that we’ll keep all the big oak trees. He has a good story to take home to his wife, where they will reminisce about the work, since the ’80s, they have put into their Emerald Hills home.

We watch two smallish blue jays jockey for position on a tall, messy shrub. They refuse to situate themselves for a proper photo. I talk Ken into keeping the shrub, for the birds, since they already seem to like it so. I wonder what else I should plant to keep them fed and dancing within my sights. We watch the non-native grasses on the slope below, as they wiggle with the frantic movements of some critter, and the sun graces the creekside dogwoods.

We decide we like the trees more than the house, and so, we like the house because of the trees. We breathe in the view, feel the sound of the riparian corridor, and see stillness of the evening air. And then, I am not in limbo, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

• Tags:

…exactly where I am supposed to be.

• by ~summer~
• Filed Under: my life
• Date: Mar 29,2008

I don’t do limbo well. Something about the stasis of knowing that where I am is not where I’m going to be, but that I have little control over the outcome, other than to watch the clock, is at great odds with my “make it happen” personality. Escrow is limbo. You turn in your paperwork and send your people to do your bidding. And then you wait. So we are in limbo.

So in limbo, to distract ourselves and to bring ourselves a little closer to our wish, we go to the house and take measurements, both interior and exterior. We confirm our layout plans, we switch closet assignments because, Ken says, “the girl gets the bigger closet”. We wander around the lot, commenting on each gracious, old oak, the slope of the land, the placement of my garden plots and citrus trees, and the fenced area for Sadie.

We stand out front and talk about the leaking roof, falling gutters, and inefficient windows. And then we talk some more about the trees. We meet a neighbor out walking his dogs. He, with his slight european ancient, is genuinely thrilled that we are anxious to undertake the project and even more thrilled that we’ll not demo the house and that we’ll keep all the big oak trees. He has a good story to take home to his wife, where they will reminisce about the work, since the ’80s, they have put into their Emerald Hills home.

We watch two smallish blue jays jockey for position on a tall, messy shrub. They refuse to situate themselves for a proper photo. I talk Ken into keeping the shrub, for the birds, since they already seem to like it so. I wonder what else I should plant to keep them fed and dancing within my sights. We watch the non-native grasses on the slope below, as they wiggle with the frantic movements of some critter, and the sun graces the creekside dogwoods.

We decide we like the trees more than the house, and so, we like the house because of the trees. We breathe in the view, feel the sound of the riparian corridor, and see stillness of the evening air. And then, I am not in limbo, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

• Tags: moving to lakeview, my sacred life, seeing hearing feeling