What a wild and crazy thing, insurance.
really, i just spent a whopping load of money on 'protection' in the event of a wild happening that may never come to pass. When you look at the money and the payouts and the replacement costs, its almost a wishful thing, like 'well, gee, i hope a flood happens in my arid plain while we are away on vacation so that I can build an entire house from scratch'... hm...
no wonder they ask if i've got a history of arson. no wonder.
our closing date is in one week. air mattresses are primed and ready as we will sleep on whatever floor we can find. although that is sort of a joke as we will have moved into something that has twice the footage as what we have left and eighteen times the footage of the bed we are all sharing nightly. if not twentyeight times the footage of said bed.
hearing is better, but I am longing for the respite of the quiet. thinking of checking out a Quaker meeting or two in the next months, for a forced family breathing time, i'll have to see if the urchins allow that to pass.
something always pans out, it just may not be the gold you were looking for...
Thursday, June 16, 2011
What a wild and crazy thing, insurance.
Friday, June 10, 2011
My apologies for the sterility of the last post. I've been feeling really out of the loop for physical reasons and also I've been journaling a lot and that writing has been getting richer for me, whilst dropping off so much here.
AND i'm really busy ignoring the children. I'm missing the quietude of not hearing so much, the feeling that I was granting the kids a space that they've been missing. And so I'm trying a lot harder to ignore them, to let them settle their disputes, to walk away when the whining begins, to let them hear their own voices. . . and since I'm saying less myself for these reasons, I've got the time to sit here in front of the computer.
which is less gratifying than it was a month ago, because I'm not 'engaged' with anything while I am here, feels like some sort of facebooktimesuck. I still like reading other people, but am working on how to identify this distance I feel in my body. I'm looking forward to the new house MUCH and so much of it is a return of the privacy I have had in the deafness, the lessening of the barrage of demands- simply because only the most important filter through... the thousands of others just never broke through the barrier.
until i figure out how to move about without the aide, without trying to please all the people who want communication with me to be easy enough to suit them--- i'm just going to ignore the kids.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Today are the thundershowers... the thundershowers which I, as a New Englander, don't have a fear of...but an enjoyment of... generally speaking they don't bring disaster or dismemberment or houseflattening, so they are wild and hairs curl and rooms alight, and that is just fine with me- and with my brood. although i suppose that two does not make a brood.
We are living with my mother, the heat makes my father a rage-machine, so we walk softly, those of us with a monitor for self-control. And those with no such monitor must stay outdoors at all times, which has its own long list of benefits. It will be another three weeks that we are here, and then we move slightly into 'the new'.
My hearing is slow to return and I am dealing with a lot of desires to live without a hearing aide, or at least to figure out how to move about the world of mothering without one. It is amazing to ask of your children to 'look directly at me when speaking' so i can read lips. 'don't whine' because it gets in the way of my reading your lips and understanding you... it also gives the kids a level of privacy that I believe they have been missing with an overly attentive parent. they need to go UNwitnessed sometimes, remarkably. UNwitnessed.
I have been researching chicken-raising, as I will hope to have a coop and chicks for the spring in the new house. aha. THAT WILL make a brood. As Chakra Carol said to me last week, 'its a time for possibilities, and the thing is... any of them CAN happen, and you know it.'... so, maybe I'll have chickens, and fresh eggs to share, maybe i'll send out some gourmet fancy cookies to you, maybe i'll wear long dresses and sweep through the gardens, maybe...
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
We are moved. The children and hubsJ are nestled in their beds in new places in the rooms of my mother's house. I am here, after having read so many writings that I have missed, the mothers of the world who regularly write in this place, with their messups and tried hards and their questions and answers and photos and wonderings, its a big mashup of yes! most of the time, and it is good. the move is done, everything but what i brought on my back is in a box somewhere waiting to be unloaded...and thats really all i have to say about that. it is done.
we are having our summer days right now, the stretch of green into sprinkler spray, the re-learning patience in a structure-less day...the putting off of errands, the quick hum of a fullbody tick-check, the summer haircuts to ease the tangle's lives.
My hearing is on-hold right now, as it was during most of the move. An infection upon infection and I am weaving a very quiet world view right now. I don't think I'll be around here very much as to parent in this large place I need to have eyes involved, no rest for the weary. it would be self-defeating, i would imagine. how then would i name myself weary, if i were to take it away?
I've been wondering a lot these days what story I want to tell, which part of life do I want to tell? what i focus on will thrive. what story do I want to tell of my life? is this what there is to me?