"Falling" In

Usually, by the second week of September, things are adjusting to their own kind of normal. The routine gets rolling, all of the bills are paid and the necessary forms are turned in.

This year, the new normal is all chaos all of the time.

I'm on round two of a broken computer. I just fixed that thing and pumped money into it to do so. Now it is lifeless and needs some kind of repeat divine intervention from the geniuses at Apple.

I'm still living in my one bedroom, one tent abode with one husband, three kids and a big, hairy black dog. I now know why dressers and closets were invented. Everyone needs a sock and underwear drawer, if nothing else, unless you're a dog.

I hope to be back on track soon, if it's not overgrown and unrecognizable.

Overdue Greetings from California: 9/2011

Dear Friends,

September is a high action month. We are on the go, and usually don't know where we are going. I have two calendars, one paper and one electronic. Wouldn't it be nice if there was a magic system that combined them flawlessly? Oh there is, it is called organiztion! Oops, clean out of that in my mental cupboard.

We are still in the one bedroom, one tent ark. It's all ok. Every once in a while I feel like I really have things under control. The next millisecond, things are falling on me in the closet and I know I absolutely don't have ANYTHING under control.

We actually have no furniture in our regular house. We have a big, expensive job ahead of us to try to fix that situation. Since we are all so bad at trying to choose things, it may be that way for a long while.

Kids are back at school...I think today made it the ninth consecutive day that we tried to get to school somewhat around the time it starts. We usually are a little more punctual at the beginning of the year and slide backwards to being Indiana Jones rolling under the closing stone door late. The pattern already set for this year scares me...if we are this bad now, imagine where we will be by Christmas?

I know that's not a lot of info. Add a broken computer and a smashed phone, and you get a clearer picture to why this blog is suffering.

That's all I can say for now.
Kindly,
Deb

Circle of Friends

We had a fabulous gathering of friends last night. The weather was post card perfect. It really was a gorgeous, gorgeous night. It is in those occasions that I really feel blessed by the family that is our "friend" family.

When I was growing up, it was my cousins that I saw at each and every holiday and event. At these gatherings, my aunts and uncles chattered in the background, while the kids ran amok. Most of my relatives ALL live within a 15 mile radius of each other. There were, and still are, only a handful of exceptions--uh, like maybe 5, including me.

Food was always homemade and potluck. Everyone had their signature speciality. Every once in a while a fantastic new dish would appear, and the recipe was instantly shared on recipe cards. They still all do this for birthdays, graduations and holidays. That is a very hard part about living across the country from your childhood home.

When we moved to the west coast, I had to leave behind the occasions that defined my ideas of celebration and family. I also left behind the network of support that you don't really realize is there until you don't have it. Especially, after I had my first baby, I realized that I was alone. There was no one to bring over a casserole in the special sharing basket. There was no one to hold that baby while I had a shower.

Last night, I looked around the late night circle of faces on the patio in the candle light. There was so much big history in that little circle. We were all comfortable, the way that family is comfortable. There is a comfort and grace that is so reassuring.

If I had a baby now, there is no doubt that casseroles would appear magically on my doorstep. There is no doubt that any woman, or man, in that circle would hold my precious newborn so that I could take a shower.

We are not afraid to call each other out on the good. the bad or the ugly. There is no fear. We all have seen the highs and lows, and we know that these are solid, friends for good. These, are our west coast family...and we love you!

Noah, I Can Relate: Life on the Ark with 3 Kids and a Dog

Well, we are officially ark dwellers. We have crammed our family of 5 into 700 square feet. One queen size bed, one full size pull out and a loft that is meant for storage, but now sleeps two, are our accommodations.

The ark for two is perfect and romantic. The ark for three is cozy. The ark for four is a bit squished. The ark for five, need I say it?

The ark for 5 is a small scale comparison to what Noah felt like on his ark--minus all of the animal pairs.

What once was minimalistic and sleek, is now crammed with at least five of everything. As usual, the pairs that are taking over this family ark come in shoes. Two or more pairs of shoes for each ark dweller adds up to, well, adds up to a lot of shoes.

One thing is for sure, life is an adventure. If Noah could do it, so can we. We at least have much better weather. I don't know if I prefer goats to teenagers, though.

One Foot On Land, One Foot In The Swamp: Two Things

Thing 1:

Swamp House is looking pretty good. It is getting comfier and cozier every day. It may not even be able to be called "Swamp House" anymore. It is actually better than my own house at this point. Better views. Better appliances. Better finishes. No one ever said that life is fair.

Well, and it is technically our place, but a place is not the same as a home. It's kind of turned into our mini vacation home. We go as a family. The kids play games. I can avoid the mess that is naturally generated in the home of a family of five.

Thing 2:

We have new neighbors renting across the street...again. The homeowners are living on the east coast, so they've been renting out their home for about 3 years. We've had three different families move in and out.

The first time I baked brownies, wrote a little card, knocked on the door and introduced myself. The second time, I introduced myself--gave the family a little card with our contact info.

The first two families we invited to our parties, went out as couples and spent some time together. They were very nice people. Then they all moved and sincerely, we will never see them again.

Now, I'm on the third time around, and I'm tired. Do I need to bake brownies? Show up on the doorstep? I'm generally very welcoming, but for now I'm lazy and crabby and they only are going to live there for 5 months. Can I just smile and wave?

If you know me, sigh, we will bake the brownies and do the whole thing all over again. That's just the way that we are, or I am anyways.

The Guest List: Add Your Name to the Ark Roster Now!

The Ark, or Swamp House, is almost finished with its construction odyssey. I've been an errant bloggeress, life is doing it's usually January undertow and I'm going under.

We are setting up camp, so we need to figure out what kind of things we need. You sure think about necessity when you have to drag your worldly possessions out a boardwalk by hand or in a little cart.

The project has turned out beautifully. If you are on the potential guest list, get your request in early... I have this feeling that once someone stays here it's going to be hella hard to get them to leave.

It's better than my house...so it might be me that you'll have to boot out!

More About The Ark: Maison Marecage 1916?

Maison Marecage* (or MM, the Maison, or the Marecage)  is the tiny "hipped roof," dark-colored, white-window-framed ark in the center rear of this photo.  It is referred to nowadays as being on the wide water of the creek.  As far as I can tell, this photo is from around 1916.

The MM is located on the boardwalk on a section known as "The Spur."  Therefore, anyone out on The Spur is called a Spur-ite.

*Pronounced something like:  May-zon Mare-ah-cahge, for people unfamiliar with French like myself.  This name came from the brilliance of our friend, Paula.  Due to my husband's continuing dismay over the name "Swamp House" and it's staying power, she suggested we use the French translation.  Apparently, anything sounds better in French.

The Ark

Well, if you have heard rumors about an ark, they are true. I am told I can no longer refer to it as "Swamp House." All I can say is that the first time George laid eyes on this place, he was grinning ear to ear.

He was still grinning ear to ear through the pest inspection report. It was like the pest inspector just drew a big red circle around the entire structure and declared it infested. He was still grinning ear to ear when the building inspector declared part of it a "tear down."

And he was really grinning ear to ear when he dragged his old kayak out of it's 6 year hibernation and plopped it into the creek.

I am charmed by the history, the unique lifestyle and the gorgeous views. I guess I finally got my 100 year old, um, house. George got his cottage location northwest, as well as an office. Our parents get a place to come and enjoy extended stays. We all win, except the pests, I hope.