More Thanksgiving Musings

I have everything to be thankful for as well. I was particularly glad this year that my one of my sons stayed with us past dinner and spent the night. We went to a party at the house where Sally's daughter lives and my son really enjoyed being able to interact with many other 20-somethings (50 and 60 somethings were way outnumbered!)

We spent approximately 12 hours on Friday at the orphans annual Thanksgiving banquet held in West Philadelphia this year. Great food, great drink, great conversation and above all great friends to share the holiday with as well as Sally and our children. This has been an exceptionally good Thanksgiving for me among many good ones.

Looking forward to Christmas.

And everyone should have a Sally too!

Thankful

I'm thankful for my beautiful and healthy daughters and their loving, supportive relationship with one another.

I'm thankful for this lovely and comfortable house, for all the critters that share it with us, even the dogs who drive me crazy a lot of the time.

I'm thankful that my mom is doing well, and my sister is doing as well as she can, and that my little brother is the brilliant and sensitive businessman, father and husband that he is. That he loves and cares for me even though that is not always easy.

Most of all this particular Thanksgiving I am thankful for my Harry, who tells me I am beautiful and hugs me whenever he can, whose kisses are still and always magic, who loves and cares for me and all the people important to him, who doesn't get angry when I am sulky or difficult, and who tells me over and over how much he loves me. It is balm for my mother-neglected, poorly married and still evolving self.

Everyone should have a Harry in her life.

Thanksgiving Plans

Harry and I are going to do it ALL this Thanksgiving.

He and his ex take turns having their children for T'day; this year it's his turn so he and I (well, he. I have never roasted a turkey in my life) will make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for his three grown children and their significant others (one of whom has become vegetarian in the past year, but I'm sorry there will be no Terducken) at our house. My grown-up daughters, who will be dinner hopping, will grace us with their presence for dessert.
Then in the evening Harry and I will repair to my traditional Thanksgiving venue; a moving affair of old friends (and serious foodies) to which I have belonged for almost thirty years.
I will make my signature Brussels Sprouts with Walnuts for 12 (at home) and 23 (at the Foodies.') We will probably serve jellied cranberry goop for the kids' dinner because it's "traditional" but I will draw the line at that "salad" involving miniature marshmallows and Reddi-Whip.
I will be keeping my fingers crossed there will be Brie en Croute and stuffed grape leaves (both traditional hors d'oeures for the foodies) left by the time we get there.
Somewhere in there Harry will have to get his football in. At home, because at the foodies one of the cardinal rules (akin to "there will be turkey") is "NO FOOTBALL."

Second Time Around - Posted by Harry

Tuesday Sally and I visited the county courthouse and applied for a marriage license. It was a perfect fall morning -- cloudless blue sky, trees gold and red, crowned with sunlight. Indoors was orderly and dull the way most modern courthouses seem to be. We emptied our pockets, stepped through the metal detector, I was scanned. Each of us carried our divorce decrees (Sally's recent, mine over six years old). We both had to place our hands on the Bible and take an oath not to lie about ourselves. The entire process took about 10 minutes. The clerk congratulated us. The state makes it easy to get married, but not at all easy to end a marriage.

Sally and I first decided we would get married nearly two years ago, but I think we've always felt the possibility of marriage with each other almost from the beginning. A little over a month after we had met, we were already finding it a challenge not to spend each day together. We had met in early December of 2007 and by April 2008 we were living together in my house until I sold the house in June of 2008 and we got a rental together. This past April we moved into our own house (the logistics are best left for a separate post). For some time we have been saying to one another that we already feel as if we are married. And we have been waiting a long time for Sally's divorce to be finalized, and part of the process got hung up in court, or with the lawyer failing to follow through with paper work. So it goes....

I feel different, much different than where I was on the eve of my first marriage 27 years ago. I don't feel there are expectations between us and there is a great deal more understanding. I certainly don't have any illusions about marriage, and have learned that you should always cherish the good and not dwell on the bad (and with Sally and me it is always far more good than bad). And our children are grown, so we are not faced with parenting issues except for our misbehaved dogs. Although we have been blessed with wonderful children by different partners in this life, Sally and I have often said that maybe in our next life we will have many children together. I think that's a beautiful wish.

Great Uncle?

There is a new addition to our extended family. Yesterday my younger brother became a grandfather when his youngest daughter gave birth to a baby girl, Nyomi. She is adorable with abundant hair as shown here.

RED

Even before I saw the trailer - Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich and Helen Mirren - I was so there. (I also like Mary Louise Parker, though she's not in the I'll-see-anything-she's-in category) So, as opposed to putting it in our Netflix queue, Harry and I actually went out to see a movie.

It was good, loony fun. I'm not generally a fan of shootem-ups but this was so over the top I forgot to hide my eyes and just giggled.

Helen Mirren, explaining wet work: "I kill people, Deah." (deprecating shrug))

J0hn Malkovich, paranoid par excellence:

Bruce: "Why are you trying to kill me?"
John, patiently reasonable: "Because the last time we met you tried to kill me>"
Bruce: "That was a LONG time ago"

Well, you had to be there.

I think it must be one of the benefits of being a mega movie star to be able to do something as out of character (I mean Clint Eastwood with a machine gun, sure; but Helen Mirren? Wearing a long, Christ-like robe and combat boots?)

Highly recommended by Sally. Even for Merchant-Ivory, Thousand Eyes Cinema devotees.

End of October (almost)

This month has been a challenging month and there were many things going on, but as the temperatures drop and the light softens by late afternoon I realize how much I love this time of year --- the mood, the atmosphere, jacket weather.....

A good friend once remarked to me some time ago that, after her father had passed in early October, she'd been unable to find any joy in Halloween because she did not want to be reminded of death, not after such a recent loss. I had understood. Sally and I also experienced a loss earlier in the month. I'm sure the month changed course as a result, though I'm not sure in what way, but last Monday was Sally's oldest daughter's birthday. I will let her talk more about that, but it was a beautiful night to be with her family and friends, and in-laws, and maybe even her ex! The house felt warm and friendly, and we enjoyed a mac-and-cheese bake off!

I will help Sally with the music links and..... we found her camera! So maybe we can post a pic or too. Nothing to report on the movie front, except for "The Social Network" which we saw about 10 days ago. I was psyched for the Phillies to make it to and win the World Series, but alas this wasn't 2008.

Harry.

Harry,

You know I love you and I know you love me.

Does anything else matter?

There are many other considerations
but
do any of them matter?
Really?

October Sunday

A perfect Sunday with Sally... Nothing more to say.

Re-Entry

A death in your family-friend orbit is complicated and multidimensional as you share the experience with the people impacted. Each has a different role, a different level of maturity, a different relationship to you and of course to all the other people you have relationships with. In the case of my friend K's recent loss of her husband to cancer I found myself experiencing it in several ways. First, there was anguish for my friend, to lose her mate and best friend, after struggling so valiantly. There was also an element of "how unfair of the universe" which I realize is probably always at the heart of dealing with death. Maybe not if the person is ninety seven and dies in his sleep, but this was not the case here. K's husband was 57, (Harry's age!) and had been a healthy, practical person, a dedicated teacher, father, husband. Together he and K seem to have done everything right. A mutual friend said, just before the death, "if ever anyone deserved a miracle, it's K " and I agree. And any death, but especially one close to you, reminds you or your own inevitable death. This time, for me; there was also the thought of losing Harry. Finally there was my younger daughter - her best friend's father; someone who'd been a surrogate dad in many ways when she was younger. Her best friend dealing with the loss of a parent at far too young an age. And of course, the realization that she will one day lose her own parents. . . added to this was the knowledge that she (my daughter) had struggled with depression in her last year of HS and was adapting to a major change (life at college, far away.)

It's been some weeks now, and life has resumed for everyone. That too, is sad. I found the funeral card yesterday, under a pile of mail near the front door. The smiling photograph of K's husband. I won't see that smile again.

Retirement - Posted by Harry

Last weekend Sally and I visited our friends in Delaware. The friends have recently moved into a new house in a "planned" community about 10 minutes from Lewes and Rehoboth Beach.

We had a fine weekend, dining on lobster Saturday evening, sitting on the beach Sunday afternoon feeling the embracing warmth of the sun on a cloudless day with temperatures in the 70s. Our friends new house was beautiful, spacious and yet cozy at the same time. They're retired. They're gardening. They're landscaping. They dine out a lot and frequently have house guests and parties. Rick is busy with making art which he's been doing since college. His entire basement is a studio and informal gallery and it's quite impressive.

I'm not sure if I could live in a retirement community, or a planned or gated community, and this is an individual choice or preference, I'm not saying it to cast aspersions on my friends' lifestyle (which looks wonderful) or possibly followers of this blog. Because it is compelling to consider finally settling down with little to deal with or worry about. It makes a lot of sense. You don't have to be old to live in this particular development, which Sally and I thought was one of the more livable in the area. One of our friends neighbors is a young couple with small children. The grounds are impeccably designed and pleasant. There is a gym and entertainment center. There is less evidence of rural or semi-rural sprawl.

Sally and I could not afford a home in one of those communities but I don't really see us living in one if we could afford it. I guess I see retirement as "every day is a weekend" kind of feeling and that's great, no problem there. But I don't see why we couldn't do that and stay in our house, which is most likely how retirement may end up playing out for us. And based on what we would collect from social security (we have no pensions, Rick has a 30-year railroad pension after retiring from Amtrak) the wages would not even cover our living expenses so we would both have to either live off additional income from investments (scant) and keep working in current "you're-over-the-hill" careers or find new work that may help defray the cost of living. I guess if retirement means I would pretty much have every day to do what I please, then sign me up!

Be that as it may, we're happy for our friends and we're happy too!

Update

My friend's husband died last night, right around the time I was writing the last post. I got her graceful and heartbreaking message just now. I knew already, since my daughter texted me this morning, but Claire's words on the screen made it real. My daughter is coming home on Sunday to be with her friend.

Posted by Sally

A New Beginning

I think what anyone who has gotten through a long but not terribly happy marriage to wash up on the shores of being single at an advanced age (I won't tell you how long but still) would hope for, and think they knew all about, Successful Relating. You know, believing that all those stupid pointless fights they'd had with the first, inferior, spouse; were just about being young, uninformed, insensitive.

Thinking that you would NOT make the same mistakes, given a partner who REALLY loves you and is on the same page. (because in the OLD marriage, that was never the case)

It's a seductive idea but not remotely true.

The old stuff comes back. You hear your sweet new beloved yelling at you (in the heat of argument, but still) you always do that! You're mean to me!

- and your heart quails, remembering ancient arguments and pointless battles repeated . . .over and over. Things you had almost forgotten - but the sad sinking in your abdomen; not forgotten. The old painful refrain of . . why do this, why even try? is too familiar, and way too depressing to hold on to. So what am I saying here, exactly?

Not sure. I think I am just pointing out that even new beginnings by well-meaning oldsters (those who think they know the drill) are fraught with the same crap we all encountered as beginners. What a drag.

As I write, my dear friend C is in a hospital, waiting for her husband, who has rectal cancer and has, together with her and the rest of his loving family, fought it for the last two years, with every bit of energy he and his family could muster on his behalf. His youngest daughter is my younger girl's best friend. Both are freshman year programs at different schools. He is brain-dead, apparently. My heart fails me. .. Claire, dear friend, how to understand this; the loved husband and father. .. .
For the two (youngest) kids : One of them mine: What can I say t o a child losing a parent?

To her (Charlie and Claire's girl): Darling girl: Your father and your mother want you to be YOU, nothing less, nothing more. My girl ( C & C's best friend, since kindergarten) Please my darling, You are a good friend to Colleen, and I am glad that you are. Being a friend to one who is in pain, or trouble, is a special blessing.

As your momma (sic) I worry about your - mind set, as it is -are you okay? Happy? willing to talk to dreary adults who love/worry about you?

The Enchanted (or Enchanting) Thai Restaurant - Posted by Harry

On our first date (Date 1, not Date 0 which was a getting-to-know you meeting at Starbucks), Sally and I ate at a Thai restaurant in her town. The restaurant is a small, unpretentious, family-run business that has a very neighborhood feel, meaning that locals tend to dine here more than visitors. The food is not brilliant, but it's often very good, and reasonably priced. The decor is eclectic southeast-Asian and whimsical: full-sized wooden statues of Buddhist figures, pulsing light balls, temple prints, family photographs, etc. It's a family-run business.

Something happened on that first night. I felt so at ease and close with Sally as if I had known her all my life. The restaurant was casual and packed with diners, and yet somehow intimate, conducive to talking, to learning more about one another and simply feeling romance, intense attraction, desire, joy. It may sound cliched but there was incredible energy and magic between us in that place, in that moment. I felt blessed and grateful, deeply grateful, and I have felt that way ever since.

We have returned to the restaurant many times in the nearly three years since we first ate there (we met in early December), and every experience is concatenated from that first time. We ate there again last Saturday, and I always feel the mood and charm of our beginning, and the present moment, as we talk, and drink wine, and share our duck and seafood dinners. I'm reminded of paleolithic tribes carrying a coal or embers from their last fire as they migrated across frozen wastes to the cave or outcropping where they would then light their next fire. This ember was our first night at the Thai restaurant, and even though we've had warm fires ever since, I always sense the glow of that ember whenever we enter through the screened door.

Barking Dogs

I (Sally here) am not really a dog person. I do love dogs; I love their smartness and willingness to please, their apparently endless capacity for submitting to all of a human's whims with not just grace but joy. . .their ability to forgive. . .where I work there is a lovely young Labrador who was grossly abused in puppyhood. (I couldn't really attend to the story her owner, who rescued her told me: too horrific. But she has big ugly scars on her back from being whipped.) And every time she sees me, she sidles over delicately and asks, very sweetly and anxiously, to be petted. . . in some part of her brain (I can see terror as she rolls her eyes) she cringes because she can't help thinking I might hurt her. This dog weighs almost as much as I do, has big powerful jaws; she could definitely take me out.
So sad, and so touching, that this nice animal who has good reason to distrust humans, wants nothing more than a little commonplace affection. So yeah, it does make me a trifle, I don't know, weirded out that this sweet creature is so willing to risk everything for acceptance. . .at the same time I feel honored by the trust.

Still as I said I am not a dog person per se. I was bitten by my grandparents' Schnauzer at about two, I still sweat remembering a recurring childhood nightmare featuring a large German-Shepherd-looking demon dog. . . but then I had a sweet little collie mix called Lady when I was very young who followed me everywhere and hung on my every whim.

I'm a cat person. I think I love cats with another personality; what I love about them is exactly opposite to what is nice about dogs. They're independent (or at least they're good at pretending they could care less what you think) Everything is on their terms. And they are lovely, sensual, low maintenance and generally silent.

Which brings me to the title. Harry and I have two dogs, both inherited. He got his (terrier mix) in the divorce. I got mine (Pom/Chihuahua) when my youngest went off to college this fall. Both are nice animals in many ways, but they BARK.BARK.BARK. all the time, at any conceivable prompt. Someone walking past. A dog barking three blocks away. an alarm clock. My cell phone, announcing with a discreet little beep that I have a new email. . .

Drives me crazy.

Sally's Knee - Posted by Harry

I like Sally's knee, just as I like all of Sally's body parts, however the knee has been giving her trouble for some time. She has difficulty walking or being on her feet for too long a time, and obviously climbing up and down the 3 sets of stairs in our house causes pain and problems, especially if any of those stairs are being used to carry laundry or furniture. Originally Sally had problems with her hip but the knee has superseded the hip problem and may have even contributed to the hip problem.

Sally saw the doctor last week and he is starting her on a topical pain medication and anti-inflammatory, and she will be starting physical therapy. The doctor's diagnosis was encouraging because Sally may not need knee (need knee?) surgery, which she wasn't looking forward to in the first place. We still don't know for sure, and we don't know how it will all work out with co-pays because of my health insurance. Sally'll be seeing a PT on Thursday. I don't want to see her have to go through the ordeal of surgery, and would love it if we could take walks together again. :)

I'm pretty okay with aging except for physical discomfort (ask Sally -- she doesn't complain, I do) some of which may result from my belonging to the male of the species and not having experienced childbirth. But physical discomfort seems to come with the latter-part-of-my-50s territory, and maybe I should get used to it. After all, I have a good lifestyle, I exercise regularly and eat pretty well and I'm rarely sick --- be thankful for your blessings. But as I'm typing this post, I have an excruciating pain in my upper arm and shoulder, a pain that is periodic and the cause of which I've never been able to determine. It comes and goes as they say. I hear 60 is the new 40. So 58 must be the new 55! (I don't mind revealing my age, it may have been mentioned in an earlier post).

Looking forward to Sally feeling well and with a healthy knee......

Gadgets

Back in my twenties I (Sally) had a boyfriend who was addicted to audio equipment. So quaint it seems now.

I remember there were little screens that told you how many hertz, or decibels, or how clear the sound was, or whatever. It was all very expensive, and I would have preferred to spend what little money we had on albums (yes Virginia, albums) rather than on machines with little screens (and, in those pre-digital days, ENORMOUS speakers!) I loved listening to music; BF loved watching the little screens. Even he couldn't hear the differences, but BF called me a Luddite because I didn't enjoy spending hours in "stereo stores."

I don't think it was a fair assessment of me, even in my twenties - I did after all own an electric typewriter. But admittedly at the time my interest in technology per se lagged far behind my interests in, say, knitting, quilting or movies or macrame.

All that changed forever, in the space of one hour, in the early 80's.

I was pregnant with my first child, living in an unfamiliar city after being dragged kicking and screaming from my beloved rent-controlled apartment in lower Manhattan. My then-husband (NOT the bf) had acquired a desktop computer to write his PhD dissertation on. It was a large and unlovely machine. No Windows yet; you had to type things like

/sis.doc 76 exe/
dir/
del*.*

- before it would do anything. If you made a mistake, it also wouldn't do anything.

Then-husband (a.k.a. X) would occasionally ask me to read over things he'd written. I had been a freelance writer and editor, so he sometimes (rather grudgingly) would seek my advice when his sentences got so clogged with clauses and qualifiers he no longer remembered what he'd been working on saying. .

So I was sitting next to him at the computer, reading long sheets of green and white dot matrix printer sheets. I said something like "Why don't you start with this, it's a better opening," pointing to a paragraph halfway down the page. "Wait" he said, clicking a few keys. On the screen, the paragraph reappeared at the top of the page! Simultaneously disappearing from its original position! Everything else was unchanged!

I don't suppose there are many people currently living who will be able to understand the way I (veteran of thousands, millions of re-typed pages) felt in that moment. "Show me that again," I demanded, and I (who had failed to memorize a single programming command heretofore) found the sequence branded on my brain.

Word processing? I was SO THERE.

(only a scant minute before the rest of the world. By the time my daughter was born a few months later, I couldn't GIVE away the IBM Selectric I'd paid good money for a year before)

I struggled with that old Leading Edge PC for about a year until someone gave us a Mac Color Classic. I was already committed to the idea of word processing, but by the time I had mastered the double click, I was deeply, deeply in love. It was so cute! It was so easy to understand what should be done! I love Mac culture and I want bear Steve Jobs' children. Although I have come to embrace the Windows world as well I never forget where the lovely desktop design originated (and where it still works better.)

So, fast forward to now; Harry and me.

Harry is a network engineer. He makes his living (often our living) telling people what they need to do to make their computers/networks/software do what they want them to, and apparently a not inconsiderable amount of time explaining why what they want to do is not going to happen. And my darling Harry (who when questioned correctly knows EVERYTHING there is to know about computers while hating to admit it) is a Luddite! He has trouble with online applications. When I say "Kindle" he bridles and says "I have to hold the book, smell it; etc and etc." He doesn't care about gaming but loves the NYT crossword. He texts his kids and me; even while driving, despite my yelling at him for this; he writes this blog with me (and, I believe, others) but he would rather re-read a book than play a game or read a blog.

This post hasn't quite gone the way I envisioned. Ginny
(http://ginny-letyourlightshine.blogspot.com/
said she'd like to see more pictures. I was trying, in this post to explain how I came to technology, how my attitudes have evolved, and also to explain that while I would love to put pictures they won't ever be as gorgeous as hers. I know I haven't managed to do all this but it's where I was trying to go.

I have been fascinated by photography for years but only in the digital age have I dared to actually take a few pictures of my own. Right now I have no camera. I do have a phone! & I will try to share some of the shots I take on the blog. I have another blog, under construction, that will be mostly pictures. It's about my (younger) daughter's dog Moose who is living with Harry and me while she is in college. I'll share that link when I get it together.

Reconnecting

Over the past weekend I attended my niece's wedding/baby party in northern New Jersey. I had a wonderful time and saw some friends that I had not seen in years (or decades). And because there was a small window of time in which to try and catch up with all these friends, I found myself repeating that Sally and I would come back for a weekend and spend more time, sleep over, etc. because these friends are anywhere from 2 - 2-1/2 hours away. Seemed like a reasonable plan. However, as we drove home, I realized Sally and I have our life here, and it's a good life, and my previous impulse towards a more extended reunion was somewhat abated. I've been experiencing similar feelings on and off for the past quarter century but with different people, and over time (and probably with my getting older) I don't feel conflicted if I can't meet a social obligation.

Sally and I spend the majority of our time with one another, and we see some friends and family on either side once or twice a year, and maybe some friends several times a year, and kids a bit more than that. I think the time we spend with friends --- which always results in positive feelings, at least for me --- is not quite where it should be at this stage, but since 2008 we have been in the process of getting out lives in order with a substantial and often unexpected cloud of unsettled dust. The house is still a major work-in-progress and we are cash strapped. But we've had this house for 4 months now and it feels quite good and we plan to be married in October once Sally's divorce is finalized. So things are moving forward, and hopefully will continue to move forward. I envision a nice house party in the early Spring and more weekends away to New Jersey, New York, Delaware, Rhode Island, maybe even California (Sally's family) in the not too distant future.

I feel these types of relationships have also changed to the point where everyone seems a little more relaxed about how often they see one another. We all understand.

God

NPR, or more precisely the NPR website, is currently my favorite time-waster. Shouldn't call it a time WASTER, really, because the effects on my general educational/informational/ability-to-KILL-at-the cocktail-party-banter are HUGE. (and I do appreciate this.) But it's not an educational impulse driving this urge to click. I go there whenever I am not so much enjoying whatever it is I am doing, and want a short, clandestine break. There is ALWAYS something brilliantly diverting, or funny, or just incredibly useful in the what-can-I-make-for-dinner tonight vein. And sometimes it is uncategoriazable, as witness:

Usually, I would just forward the link to Harry. I know he enjoys when I do this, and I enjoy sharing things with him electronically. I do eventually get a reply, it's always smart and funny, unless the link has lapsed/disappeared for some reason, probably having to do with the length of time between when I sent it and he opened it. . . (The internet is SO impatient! )

My sweet Boyo is not the plugged-in Dude he presents as. By which I mean he checks his email the way we all used to check our (now-called) snail mail - whenever we got around to it, and without much enthusiasm. . . NOT every minute on the minute the way some of our younger colleagues do. . .but anyway tonight my internet access is dragging, (Harry? WTF??) and I thought (since I am ALSO way overdue for a post here) I would share this with you-all: THE INTERNET.

Anyway, God. I think this post is so intelligent and at the same time so - I don't know, blinkered? Anyway I found it smart and bizarre at the same time. We conceived of spirituality/godhead just so we could have a cop? I don't find this compelling. Isn't spirituality more crucial and functional than this? I do admire people who have the patience and discipline to DO RESEARCH but sometimes the results confound me. Partly this is X-related; partly due to my own very anti-intellectual approach to LIFE.

And all.

(Posted by Sally)

The Third Floor - Second Thoughts - Posted by Harry

Over this past weekend I painted the third floor and Sally and I laid a new rug up there. We have a stuffed chair and end table to add and we are looking for a small dresser.

But as Sally had mentioned in her previous post, there probably isn't any heat. I am going to check now. Be right back....

Yep, there is no heat delivery to the room on the third floor, so in realtor's terms, this can not be considered a 4-Br. It doesn't mean that the room still could not be heated, and the heat would rise in the winter so it may get partially warm up there anyway. Nonetheless, it makes the room/floor less desirable as a rental. Like our missing the absence of a dishwasher, here is another thing that Sally and I have overlooked. It doesn't detract from how we feel about the house. We love our house.

But even without this discovery, I was beginning to have second thoughts about renting the room on the third floor. I really love the space and Sally loves the space too, and we could use it for ourselves. Having grown up in a small house where I didn't even have access to a second floor, I was always drawn to upper floors, especially because the world looked quite different from upstairs windows --- a feeling that piqued my childhood imagination and one that has never really left me.

Although money is tight and relief possibly still anywhere from a month to several months away, I don't believe we could rent the space for the amount we originally intended, if we can rent it at all.

Hopefully Sally and I plan on being married in late October. We have a few hard months ahead of us. We are in love all times of the day, but those 4AM groggy hugs and murmurs are especially sweet. Hang in there Darling. I will too.

Catch-up

How to start?

Well, Harry's son Tony has gone off to his college to "look for a job," which, remember, is what he has been doing all this summer; while sleeping until 4 pm and going off on his skateboard every once in a while to drop off an application, returning within the hour.

My daughter has gone off to her freshman year at a marine biology program. Not California, thank god. But really far away, which was probably what she was thinking. So far (four days in) she seems to be doing well.

Harry and I are trying to prepare to rent our 3rd floor room despite not being sure there is heat up there. Also we really don't want to. We love the attic space, and anyway are reluctant to share our new house with yet another adolescent (probably. since most likely only a student would interested) One we aren't even related to. . .

AND we are worried about money. I am still not earning a real salary. He is hating his job. Everything costs more than we can afford.

Withal, we are still happy and in love, especially at four am when we groggily hug and murmur before falling back to sleep. We are planning a marriage ceremony, just as soon as we can gather all our off-spring into one place for an hour or two. . .

Oh, and my college bound youngest has entrusted her little Moose:





to us, well me (the Mom) and although I have never been a fan of small dogs, all of whom seem to be much too enamoured of their yappy little voices. .. Of course Moose is, as well. But he's cute and cuddly too, and very very sweet.

Movie Review - INCEPTION - Posted by Harry

Sally and I saw the film "Inception" last evening and I was pretty wowed by it (with a few reservations), more so than Sally who was put off by the endless chase scenes, car and building explosions, and torrents of bullets. I have to agree with Sally on that score. I think though it was visually brilliant and a bit philosophically ambitious, the director/producer/writer should have made it less of an action movie, or maybe not an action movie at all, or maybe an action movie with less action and more drama. I thought Inception was incredible at certain plot junctures --- but honestly, though amazing at times, the work would have been improved by lopping off 20-30 minutes of action sequences. It definitely would not have lost anything.

I've been thinking about the film on and off throughout the day, so it has some staying power, and not in a bad way. Perhaps Monty Hall or Vanna White should have been behind the vault (that's how I dream, my absurd subconscious) with a big prize. I was riveted at times by this film, and at other times maybe a tad "disappointed" like the magnate Fisher, on his death bed, says to his son....

...and why isn't there a verb "inceive"? or we have conceive, deceive, receive, perceive

http://www.answerbag.co.uk/q_view/2083074

The Kids Are So-So

Harry and I saw "The Kids are All Right" because we were both pretty sure it was impossible to make a bad movie with EITHER Annette Bening or Juliane Moore in it; together (we thought) had to mean golden, right?

Wrong. It's actually pretty awful. Go figure. What were they thinking?

After a first half that is fun and charming; a nicely light handed comic romp about (gay) marriage, california-speak, teenagers and midlife crises, the plot takes an inexplicable and unmotivated left into soap-opera-style melodrama. Bening, who is sort of Felix Unger-ish odd up to that point, turns into an emotional Creature from the Black Lagoon and the whole second half is devoted to Geraldo Rivera-style emotional purging which, even performed as it is with finesse by Julianne Moore, (who cries beautifully) had me doing so much eye rolling my forehead was sore.

Of course nobody's asking us, but Harry and I can fix it. All it would take is re-editing. We thought it should have been a comedy throughout. The melodrama (Juliane has an affair with the sperm donor of their children and gets caught when Annette finds red hair on the SD's pillow) should be confined to fantasies (hers, his or both) - that way we get to keep the sexy scenes - and in the end the children (and everybody else) realize that parenting is care-giving and history, not biology. THE END.

Boarder - Posted by Harry

House expenses (and other expenses) are challenging at the moment, so Sally and I have decided we will need to rent out our 3rd floor which is a semi-converted attic space --- quite nice and private actually, but a tough space to occupy in the summer heat.

My son, who has only been a part-time boarder since May, will be heading back to college soon. He will probably leave around mid-August and then we will paint upstairs and put down carpet. Sally found rugs on CL for free and all I needed to do was pick them up.

Hopefully the boarder will be a graduate student or maybe late-20s-early-30s-something professional. A student would be ideal because they wouldn't have to be there next summer with the heat. There have been ads for rooms to let in Lansdowne. We may get lucky.

Sally's daughter is leaving for college soon, and will be stopping by tonight for a last dinner with Mom.

Want to see "Inception" badly. Hopefully next Monday. I will post a review then.

I Am Love

A while back Harry and I resolved to post about movies we saw. We haven't, largely because we don't go out to the movies much - there is so depressingly little to lure us out and away from evenings of Netflix and HGTV. We do belong to the Bryn Mawr Film Institute, which offers interesting things that don't get shown at the cineplexes. . .

We did recently see there a film I completely adored: I Am Love It was one of those rare movies that had me at the first image, and held me tight until the credits finished rolling. It's lush and gorgeous visually and provides the kind of voyeurism into how the rich, foreign and beautiful people live that underlay my (adolescent) love for movies (think Titanic), but is written and directed in a way that speaks to my adult Film Buff(The Sorrow and the Pity). It's intelligent, complicated and sexy, and even though I agreed with Harry on the way home that several of the actions that turn the plot were not believably motivated (one character, when (gently) informed of his mother's infidelity with his friend, falls and fatally cracks his skull) it had nothing to do with the experience of watching it. I didn't even think "Oh, sure!" until it was over.

I don't think Harry liked it as much as I did, but both of us want to see it again.

Sweat Equity Kitchen Project - Posted by Harry

After we had moved into our new house in late April, Sally discovered a small overlooked detail that we'd failed to notice on an initial viewing, a home inspection and a pre-closing walk through --- no dishwasher! How could we have possibly missed such an important appliance? It may have been too late for hindsight or regret, but we weren't about to spend our "golden years" slaving over a sink and getting "dishpan hands" Remember that ad campaign? Maybe not because no one has dishpan hands anymore. EVERYONE has a dishwasher.

So we decided we would buy and install a dishwasher ourselves and partially remake our kitchen on the cheap: a DIY project that entailed ripping out our old and hideous formica counter top and sink, and replacing with new butcher block counter, new stainless steel double sink and fixtures. Although Sally and I had done many other home projects before, including gutting rooms and removing walls and other structural challenges, we had never specifically done a new kitchen counter, but we agreed the project and scope of work seemed within our skills and energy. It seemed like something we could do.

Sally got us the dishwasher and sink on line for a combined cost of about $150 and the sink fixtures came from Home Depot. At Ikea we ordered an 8-ft and a 4-ft birch counter top. We got the 4 foot piece, but after 2 weeks of waiting for our 8 foot piece and getting further aggravated with washing dishes in 9-degree heat, we decided to buy two more 4 foot pieces of counter top and at least get our project underway.

Sally has been watching a lot of HGTV and DIY channel. She was ready. But last Friday afternoon and Saturday morning Sally had corrective laser eye surgery, and then Saturday morning/afternoon we picked up the two additional counter tops at Ikea. So our kitchen project did not really begin until Sunday morning. We estimated one day for the job. The job was pretty much finished by Tuesday afternoon when the plumber left with a check for 285 dollars.

I'm not going to bore you with all the details of our project, but just give you a sense of our overall mood, our setbacks and triumphs. After all, renovations and projects on HGTV are always sped up, not in real time, and most significant obstacles, like unplanned for trips to get hardware, tools or lumber, Wawa lunches, and especially tempers, are glossed over on those shows. Sally and I --- sans designer and contractor --- are the real world, either because we have confidence in ourselves or we lack the $$$ or both.

We're also talking mid-July here. Temperatures Sunday and Monday were well in '90s.

The first obstacle on Sunday morning was shutting off the water line to the kitchen sink. This should have been a no-brainer because the shutoff is usually under the sink, but it wasn't so I needed to trace the valve in the basement water pipes. Once I was able to locate I could shut off the Hot but not the Cold. Impossible. We then needed to turn off the Main which of course removed our shower and toilet and everything else. Then we tore out the kitchen counter and sink and whatever cabinetry got in the way. Somewhere following this dirty and sweaty labor, I had to drop off my son at the train station. He skedaddled.

Next came the counter top. Sally and I did a fine job of cleaning and getting everything level and we traced the sink with a template. However, the somewhat thick birch would not cut with my jig saw which is what a rep. at Home Depot said would work (from herein I will refer to "Home Depot" as "HD" not to be confused with the innovative early 20th century symbolist-modernist poet, Hilda Doolittle.

HD Trip Number 1 (about 4pm): PVC plumbing and double sink drains and other sundries. app. $100.

Did I mention it was hot and we hadn't eaten and we had no running water?

HD Trip Number 2 (about 6pm): This was to buy what I belived would be a bigger and better jigsaw (about $30.)

OK, we were still unable to cut the joined counter tops. Jigsaw blades were either bending or breaking. Hey, we figured we could at least reconnect the water lines and call it a day.

HD Trip Number 3 (6am Monday morning): I finally located an HD rep in the tool section who advised cutting the counter top "very carefully" with a circular saw. I returned home and the rest of the morning was devoted to doing this. We were making progress.

There were three local hardware trips mixed in with the HD trips.

I installed the drains and part of the fixture Monday afternoon and then got to the plumbing. First of all the main drain pipe cracked --- not a big deal, it could be replaced. The real problem was the Mickey Mouse trap kits I picked up at HD. After our good friend Ken the Plumber installed the sink (and dishwasher drain and lines I might add) I realized that I had needed to purchase contractor grade (not DIY trap) PVC from HD which I would have done but we were running out of time and I had to return to work on Tuesday so we called Ken the Plumber to finish the sink plumbing and dishwasher. I could have finished the sink plumbing myself (not sure about dishwasher having never done one). But TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE. Ken and helper took about 2 - 3 hours to do the job. Figure 2 - 3 times that for me.

And did I mention it was hot?

On Tuesday, after the plumbing was finished, Marnie wired the plug for our dishwasher and I shimmed and mounted later. We are very happy and proud of our dishwasher and countertop :)

I think this project was instructive for the both of us. I came away not feeling we lacked the skills or the desire to do a project (I already knew that, and we can always do the demo and finishing work ourselves and hire contractors when we are pressed for or in a jam or screw something up), but Damn -- we were tired! I just don't have the energy (and occasionally the will) for all that labor. And Sally feels the same way. After all, our combined ages total 120 years. Nonetheless, I still believe we were smart in doing our own contracting and subbing out the plumbing for the kitchen, even if it wound up costing us a little more than planned. But our dream project -- Our Bathroom -- is going to be a different story ;-)

The Semi-Empty Nest

Harry and I have been sharing, if that's the word, our new digs with his son.

Let's call him Tony - for the Latinate genes he inherited from his mother, which give him darkling eyebrows and a overall swarthy mein. ( All of Harry's kids physically favor their Spanish-Italian mom. Harry looks sweetly Irish, a bit pale and gorgeously blue-eyed; those genes got stomped by the dark Sophia Loren-ish appearance of their mother who when he met her was a petite, dark and nervously sultry little thing. . .Sort of like how my Slavic peasant genes were coopted by Ex's Germanic tall and pale persona. . .but I wander.

Back to Tony. Who's been staying in our attic bedroom, ostensibly to look for summer work between his second and third years at college, but actually because ours is the most appealing extra room. Otherwise, there's only his Mom's - near a seashore town with much more seasonal jobs - but it's his Mom's, and I understand she is not shy about getting on his case . . also there is his sister and her Significant Other who are friendly and welcoming, but poor and with not much space.

So it's us, with a new house and a seemingly extra room where he can hang his Grateful Dead Posters and surf the internet in peace.

Duh.

Tony's a good kid, smart and charming. But I worry about him, and I know that Harry does too. It's, what, mid July? and since the end of May all he's done is sleep till one pm, smoke cigarettes (to his credit and my harshness on the subject, on the porch) and skateboard to the occasional job prospect "in the neighborhood," usually returning within fifteen minutes to report that he had gotten an application. That he would fill out - soon, and return - soon. He does this only during the putative work week - weekends he takes time off to hang with his friends.

Harry and I can't be the first parents to notice we have somehow managed to raise kids who aren't the same class we are. I was reared on the cutting edge of rural poverty by crazy people. (Think Trueblood without the vampires or the charm, and not in the south.) Harry's parents were solidly working middle class. We (and all our sibs) arrived at young adulthood understanding that (in my case, thankful that) dependence on "family" was over; and anything gained from that point forward - college, cars, spending money - was up to us. I can't think of single instance when I even considered asking for "help" financial or otherwise from my still very fraught family. Which would have been pointless, in any case, but the point is it did not occur to me. Ditto for Harry. We moved out, got jobs, signed for our own loans, got in trouble, got ourselves out of it. It's what you did when you were old enough legally to "live your own life," to borrow a phrase from my daughter. What she means by this is "I don't have to ask permission to stay out all night, and I don't have to clean my room even if my room is in your house." Harry and I were not unusually together and responsible young folk. We just expected to take charge of our lives when the time came.

So how did it happen that our kids (now all between 20 and 27) seemingly believe in "family money" and expect to be supported in open-ended suburban adolescence - by which I mean they take it more or less for granted that they will be fed, clothed and housed, sent to the dentist, and given tuition, gas and spending money, not to mention cars, until they happen upon a job that will pay rent?

Case in point: my elder daughter, after an expensive art school degree, flirted for over a year with nannying as a profession. Didn't pay much, had zero career potential but it allowed her to spend mornings chasing toddlers around the pool without having to get married or have children first. Harry's elder son spent the summer after his fourth college year parking cars. Okay, there's the rotten economy. And both these two are now in actual jobs. But the point is, both of them (and their siblings) took it for granted they would be taken care of for as long as it took. Coming of age is more about being able to drink legally, than it was a signal of adulthood.

Don't get me wrong, both my girls, and all Harry's kids are all good kids, and we count ourselves lucky in their health and characters and general eventual promise. But the lack of urgency with which they approach taking up the responsibilities of their adult lives startles me every time.

Harry: I'm Still Here Also, the Wedding Officiant

Last Monday evening Sally and I took a ride to the wedding officiant's house. We had an appointment. The wedding officiant lives in a pleasant old house in Germantown with a huge garden (his wife is a gardener). It's a fairly lovely place for a wedding and Sallie had the same impression. I wanted to meet the officiant, "Wendell" (name has been changed) simply to get an impression of him, a "vibe" as to whether I wanted this man to marry Sally and me.

Our appointment time was 7:00. Wendell said: "Where is your marriage license?" (Ah, so we were supposed to be having a marriage ceremony!) Woops! Wendell wore a dress white shirt and tie, but I assumed he might have just gotten home from work. There'd been a miscommunication with his scheduler. It wasn't a big deal (at least for us), we hung out a few minutes and talked about the ceremony. Sally and I agreed we could get married by him and at his home in Germantown.

So the ball is rolling and hopefully we can be married soon. But first some things need to happen: Sally's divorce must be finalized and then we can apply for a marriage license. Once we have the license we will contact the Officiant to make it "Official" and set up a date. It will be a small ceremony --- Us and our five adult children.

I have been struggling with catching up on my life because of the move, work to do on the house, and my job which has taken an unexpected toll on free time available energy, though these days I'm happy to still have a job. Sally, I'm still here for you, baby. Don't lose heart. And I relish our home projects together and working side-by-side. We have a lovely house to start with and we'll be making it even lovelier--- in our own way, our place, our time, our lives.

Hello? Hello?

I know my darling Harry has been BUSY lately. I am, after all, the one who sends him to the basement to find an Allen wrench, to Home Depot to find a better whatever, send me an email so I know that you still love me ...but.


But I haven't heard from DH on this site in soooo long. Do you think he's losing interest, internet?Have I been too demanding? Have I set standards of e-communication no normal person could possibly meet? Have I over-stressed my darling, asking him to perform physical feats (carry this to the third floor, take this to the garage, and when you come back, take the recycling out-)

not suitable to the lover of an elderly ... lover...?

I hope not.

Harry and I have settled in to the new house beautifully. It's great, it's large, it's in many ways what we always wanted. The new neighborhood has so far surpassed expectations.

Personally I have taken on several projects that a sixty-something should probably leave alone: refinishing a lovely old clawfoot tub. Doing demolition for making our tiny bathroom into a big, lovely, USABLE one. Doing the framing for ditto.

But I can do these things, if I have Harry at my side.

And by the way, we met with a "wedding officiant" recently - & we ARE getting married, if not in the morning, this summer sometime-

I can't wait to be married to my Darling Harry.

Gee, I hope he reads this. . .

We're Getting Married in the Morning.. .

Harry and I are going to do it. No, not that it, IT - we're getting married! Film at eleven...

Moved In

We are, moved in that is. And except for a brief emergency hiatus that involved flying to California to see my family a scant four days after the moving truck pulled away, and ON HARRY'S BIRTHDAY, it's been progressing smoothly. By which I mean, the boxes are gradually diminishing, decisions about what goes where (or at least on which floor) are more or less decided, the number of chores to be done (install new smoke detectors, hang the closet hardware, FIND the book I was reading!!!)are also leveling off.

I had hoped that the unpacking phase, wherein ALL the boxes were emptied and flattened and sent to the trash - would be over before I flew off to visit my beloved dysfunctional family. (I actually did accomplish this on one move - four days from truck to DONE! - but I was much younger then. ) THIS time the living room was still awash with unidentified boxes when I was forced to pack what I could find, hoping it would do for the target climate, to go off in a fatigued daze.

I actually did have a pleasant visit, as these things go, with my family. Sometimes when you belong to the kind of screwed-up nexus my family represents (I will go into this in more detail sometime) you focus on the chaos - of which there was plenty - and forget how lovely it is to see people who love you (and have known you since you were born) and how terrific it is to see the changes time has wrought in some of them.

More on my family at some other time. (Or on some other blog.)

I returned to my new home find my Harry happily ensconced in this pretty house, a large and sunny space that did not seem my own. In CA I had been imagining Harry, while we talked on the phone, in the OLD house...

Well, okay. The neurotic dog has adjusted,kinda, (although she has apparently forgotten she's housetrained), the cats have come up from hiding places in the cellar, and all of the kids have been to visit. (One has actually moved in for the summer.) We're here.

We've been talking about getting married. (We bought wedding rings ages ago, but this is serious - a ceremony, with kids and others. A big party, for everyone we know?)

Don't get me wrong, I think Harry and I should be married, but I can't help worrying about what it all MEANS. Not just a big party.

Probably I am just as dysfunctional as the rest of my primary blood relatives - only one of whom, in living memory, has contracted a marriage that works. I hesitated to marry the father of my daughters - and I was right! - I was never one of those (little) girls who fantasize about wedding veils. And, at the moment, one of the big issues I have not shared with my beloved Harry, is I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!!!

Think that's trivial? Fuck you.

Very Happy with House - posted by Harry

I'm mildly ashamed at the amount of time that's passed since my last entry. First there was the house closing and moving, the packing and unpacking, and more unpacking, and cleaning, and did I mention more unpacking? We're not completely out of the woods yet. Then I anticipated work would be getting easier, but in fact it has gotten worse, and so it goes.... Enough carping for now.

The House (with a capital "H") is wonderful. It felt so much like being home, so quickly. Sally and I have a few projects that we're excited about, and there is some electrical upgrades to be done, but overall it feels extremely large and comfortable, it's in a great neighborhood with fine old houses and very friendly neighbors, and even the 1 Brussels-Griffon/Mini-Schnauzer, the 2 cats, and 3 birds seem pleased.

Sally and I did overlook one small detail. On the penultimate night of moving, Sally called me from the house as I was out foraging for Chinese food and told me that we did not have a Dishwasher! Huh? I was stunned. For all the snooping around and inspecting we'd done (not to mention the legal documents like seller's disclosure agreement) how did we miss a modern amenity like a dishwasher? We've since procured what looks like a good one for only $100. (Thanks Craigslist!) and we have an electrician ready to install a line. We will probably redo our counter top and we have to modify cabinets and then we can maybe install the dishwasher ourselves.

We also discovered that the clothes dryer did not work, but that has already been taken care of. I think one can get by without a dishwasher longer than a clothes dryer.

All in all, the house has so many nice features that new used appliances don't seem to be a very big trade-off.

My second oldest son is out of college for the summer and staying with Sally and I in our finished attic. I hope he enjoys his time here. My oldest son graduated college on Sunday. :)

Hi, Boyo

Darling,


Our new house!

I'm so excited.

&

I love you.

Totally



"SALLY"

Hi, Boyo (have I used this title before?)

As I sit amidst the ruins of our (first? only? whatever - ) house.. .

To explain: In hopes of our CLOSING DATE of April ("Whan that Abril with his shoores sweete. .. ")

Oh, never mind. I do remember the bucks farteth, though.

We have been desultorially packing (more to the point NOT CLEANING) for weeks, so it is really, REALLY depressing here. Everywhere I look I see things that will not fit in boxes, or which I am embarrassed to own, or...I could go on but would rather not.

Still, darling Boyo.

I am really ready to move on to our NEW HOME.

Hopefully you will rediscover your computer, and our website (hmm?) after a while...

I love you immoderately.

Is there any other way?


(posted by Sally)

Brilliant Beach Day

Easter - an actual tradition, or just one conjured out of happiness, lust and happenstance - One year (an early one, dear heart) when all our sons and daughters had something else to do on Easter Sunday and we found ourselves all alone in the cold, watching the waves, at Ocean Beach State Park (NJ) and we. ...
and...

Again,

it was/is always perfect. Even more so this year. The air and light were better and I created a new piece of art in my head. . .

Darling, darling.

How can we do better than this?

Saturn Return

Saturn is the planet of obligations and requirements and all that "YOUR FATHER-expects-you-to-be"...stuff.

My boyo understands, lives that...his dad was wonderful, and loved him

But

The daddy I PERSONALLY had was abusive, alcoholic and stupid

(in my elderly progress toward - understanding? compassion? Not sure) - I try to think (that I should say things like: "Impaired" "shell-shocked" "horrible mother who twisted everything")

BUT

mostly I think

THANK GOD HE IS DEAD

what do I actually know? \

Nothing.

But to return to the issue actually at hand. . .in the heat of a family crisis I was reluctant to engage, I scheduled a trip to visit my mother and siblings on the day my Harry is celebrating in birthday, not to mention his Second Saturn Return.

There were mitigating circumstances, but -


I am not going there.


I have to go and deal with the fact my mother is (or is not) dying; my sister is (or is not) unable to cope with our Mummy's dying. . . .

And our brother -

Where is our brother, exactly?

My Birthday - I am the April Fool - April is the Cruelest Month, etc.

We close on our house (the one in the picture that Sally posted) on April 21, and we begin moving.

Sally is flying to California to see her mother, brother and sister on April 29, which also happens to be my birthday. It's important Sally make this trip to see her family. We will celebrate my birthday on April 28 in our new house.

I've almost made it to my my second Saturn Return. 59 may be a slightly more accurate age, but I'm in the ballpark.

http://astrology.about.com/od/advancedastrology/p/SaturnReturn.htm

Hey, Harry

(Darling) Harry-

D'j get my last post?

D'j get it?

Huh?

So ?

The New House!

It might not look stellar to you, if you're one of those McMansion devotees I keep learning so much about on HGTV...(oh yes,I do watch HGTV, though I vastly prefer DIY)...but for Harry and me, this is home, complete with plans and problems.

I love the as-yet-unidentified plants coming up in the yard,the odd corners in the basement where...

Okay, NOT BORING YOU ANYMORE - I'll save IT for after we move!

Suffice it to say - what a great house!
And I CAN'T WAIT to make love with Harry in EVERY single room. Even(after we repair the roof) the garage.

Posted by (did you wonder?) Sallie

We Think We Have a House this Time and It's Wonderful

Ok, I don't want to jinx us by this post, but after the first deal fell through we shopped around some more and found a fine old twin in great condition. We've had an agreed selling price, and started the gauntlet of mortgage application, and had a home inspection. We are currently waiting for the seller's response on some repairs. We are on tenterhooks. To some degree, and depending on what type of loan (FHA vs. conventional), parts of these negotiations are out of your control. I know that from past experience, both as a seller and a buyer. Suffice to say, Sallie and I both really want this house.

Because when we walk through the house, or sit down in the kitchen, or dining room, or feel the space in the finished attic, Sallie and I both know that we are home. It feels like home. It already feels like we live there even pending arrival of our furniture and removal of the existing furniture which maybe we're not too crazy about. Doesn't matter. This "it's home" feeling is obviously something quite intangible and hard to characterize, but almost every home buyer feels it, and occasionally the feeling may even fly in the face of practical wisdom about the house, even though practically speaking this house has been very well maintained and can be moved into without renovations. It needs work; most old houses do, but nothing in the way of intense labor other than what we want to do for ourselves (like an enlarged bathroom with a claw foot tub). We'll have a garden and have a reading room in the attic and 2 bedrooms upstairs and a separate room to watch Netflix and "Mad Men". And a space in the basement for the animals and to work out, and a porch. And maybe someday we will build our own greenhouse and have our own.... our own.... goat!

More to follow once we know if we definitely have the house and are moving.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

I love this!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxNl9WMyC70

More House Hunting - Harry

I've gotten over the disappointment with the first offer. It's still early in the game, and we have more house searching ahead of us. If this nice house doesn't move quick enough the seller may come down in price. Who knows? In the meantime, we're moving on.

Unfortunately, this weekend got a little stalled for house. I had appointments to see three houses Saturday: one was already sold, and the second house we couldn't get into. So that only left the 3rd house and although that house looked impressive in an online MLS listing, it was simply too small for our needs. Sally had line up 2 showings for this afternoon (Sunday), but the realtor had to cancel at the last minute for personal reasons. To maintain some momentum, we're going to check out an open house close by.

And fixed-sign Boyo does get attached to things. For instance, I am very attached to Sally --- attached at the hip you might say --- though I prefer attached at the lip(s) ;)

To be continued.....

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD

Didn't get our house, because the "Seller" as she's called, wasn't interested in negotiating price. At all. This is something I (as a total neophyte) understood was basic procedure.

Okay, well, my (admittedly shaky) understanding of the process is, you price your house a little (or a lot) above what you hope to get, and then you negotiate with a buyer who makes an offer.

The only basis for comparison I have is yard sales. If I want to sell, say, my elderly sofa - It's in good shape, a little worn where the boyo of (some previous) moment insisted on sitting exclusively, but still, it's quite nice. Also the cats have had some influence on one of the arms. And sometime past, I did pay $1000 for said sofa, but time has come and gone. I believe this sofa is STILL worth at least $500, but I know we're talking yard sale (not consignment shop, or even Good Will, here) so I price it at $150, knowing full well that while it is "worth" more in some market, but not the one I'm dealing in - I am willing to take $100 for it, if whoever it is will hand me the cash and take it away immediately.

I go into this in some detail to describe what my basis for understanding this is.

Dim, at best.

The house, is not so much like this. "My house is totally worth the asking price," the Seller asserted in the exchange, via realtors and whoever-

WTF?

Darling Harry was Very Very Bummed. (Fixed signs get attached to things)

When it came right down to it, I thought, "Okay, this is a perfectly lovely house. It looks wonderful and has many things we want (hardwood floors, a garage, a nice kitchen) - not to mention several things it hasn't occurred to us to want: A working fireplace. A shed to store things. Gorgeous light fixtures and tasteful painting palettes... So- Boyo and I being both fixed sun signs.. . we had BONDED with this house. It took some REALLY hard remembering to realize that there WASN'T: a fourth BR, a REAL tub to bath in - AND that it was $20,000 more than our most hopeful estimate, previously.

So we passed.

There are lots of houses out there. We're getting over it

A House - Continued: Posted by Harry

I just caught Sally's post about a new house. We are both very excited. Yesterday I made a down payment and an offer on what could be our new house. I had pre-approved credit for the loan amount. Hopefully the seller will accept my offer with not a great deal of haggling and negotiation.

It's a lovely house, and without the X-ray vision of a home inspection, it appears to be in need of little work and ready for moving into. I think Sally and I would be immoderately happy in this house.

Yes, I guess because of my last experience with home ownership and finally selling a home in June of 2008, I hadn't been paying careful enough attention to the developments in the housing market that really helps buyers --- especially interest rates, and falling prices. Although house prices may continue to fall, I think that the present is the right time, and frankly Sally and I have worn out living in an overpriced rental for nearly two years with no hope of ownership and a landlord who nickels and dimes us over every minor repair needed on this house. Not to mention we need more space. We need more space. Am I repeating myself? We need more space.

Sally and I have been watching a lot of HGTV on cable. I guess we now have the correct mindset ;-) for being new homeowners ourselves.

Please, Dear God, make this happen. Please...

To be continued.....

A House!

Harry and I (or rather Harry himself, who is a much better credit risk) are buying a house!

I'll spare you, dear internet, tales of how we decided/realized/whatever - that the exhorbitant (and not very rewarding) rent we have been paying could be, with some financial hocus-pocus, morphed into a MORTGAGE payment that is LESS and pays for a lovely house that we then (at some point - (pardon me for not getting this part very clear, I have never owned real estate, never been related to anyone who did. ..) will then OWN.

That has to be better, right?

Unless we die first.

Financial stuff is not my metier. But who cares?

A place my Boyo and I can live together? With a working fireplace?

I am SO there.

Stay tuned.

Jobs, work, & etc

In the past year or so, I have had a series of jobs.

Perhaps I should clarify: This is Sally. Harry has had a real, continuing job ever since I have known him, and before. I know he doesn't always like it, especially in tax season, but it is nevertheless real, well-paid and Professional in a way that the recent efforts I have made, in the arena of work, do not begin to approach.

Let me count the ways: First, I worked for an automotive repair place; I was the bookkeeper and office manager. Mostly what I had to do was make sure the location managers - read: skilled mechanics and car guys - did not do anything stupid about settling the daily accounts. They never did, being much more skilled than I was...I gave this up (it was a part-time job) for a "career" in CITIZEN DIPLOMACY. . .. I thought it seemed like a nice idea. We sponsored trips, and activities aimed at making friends with foreign people (none of whom had (god knows!) any political positions. It was fun, there were parties; I liked it. The (very charming) director who hired me - changed her mind. It was not so much - you; maybe what we need is more - I don't know- something else- perhaps our lovely Polish intern who is leaving to have a child-no? Not? Someone else then?

Thanks but no thanks.

After that, there was the non-profit (& much hope I had of this, as it actually related to my work background) - that "provided services to the disabled." They offered me a position case managing OR (Occupational Rehabilitation) clients.

I took it eagerly, a professional job; one I was actually qualified for:

But the director (or whatever she was) never wanted me there. I think ( who knows?) she was pressured to hire me, I do know she did all she could do to sink me - - by January it was all over.

(Screw you, Shirley Watson!!!)

Now I work for a pair of charming and (very very young!) boyos who are wino importers. I'm learning about Italian wines - fun!

I have left out many other jobs.

I don't really have the heart to explain. Another time, perhaps.

Ground Hog Day

I have never understood Ground Hog Day.

He comes out of his burrow and sees his shadow, & there's six more weeks of winter? Why? The sun is out -

Or is that if he DOESN'T see his shadow? (which would make more sense)

When I moved to PA, there was a whole more local and personal approach - seems we have a specific ground hog with a name, etc. Local news programs do spots...

I don't know.

But today, this particular February 2cd is a GOOD DAY. After losing two (out of three) jobs in as many weeks, and worrying my Harry (vis, supporting me, life after divorce, adult children, etc. etc.-) much more than necessary, more than I ever, ever will (god willing) again -

I seem to have a JOB !

I feel readmitted to adulthood, and thankful withal.

NOTwithstanding an incident at my children's school the other night, that reminded and depressed me, about life with the EX. . .

I dreamed extensively last night and woke realizing how much my interminable marriage limited and constrained me. It was always "you CAN'T do this, you're not good enough to try that; No, that is NOT for for YOU. . . "

I mourned, at some low (-er than usual) point in the marriage, that I had traded everything for the right to have babies...

& Ex scoffed at me in the night, but I was right. If maudlin.

First to have one child (what did he know?) and then another. . .In between there were the losses I have not forgotten. My Owen Andrew, stillborn at nine months. (his father wouldn't recognize the name or his child; he dismissed our son as completely as he had a miscarriage and the so-called "disgenetic" pregnancy I terminated because I could not compromise my three-year old daughter's claim on our (limited) resources. . .

It's all water under the bridge now but I don't know how to consign it to unimportance. Harry doesn't ask me to.

Harry has his own water under the bridge.

I love Harry


Posted by Sally





W

Finally Back

Sally's last post was beautiful and true, but I don't see how it can be any other way. I am in this relationship to love her and be there for her, no matter what the circumstances. The romance is great and vital, but this is the most important thing I can ever do with her. Honestly.

I responded joyously to Sally's post about the wedding in my heart, and also in my heart about where we are going with our lives. I did tell her about the post and how wonderful I thought her vision was. This is a rough time (rough time of year for me, and rough time in general, with older kids and their needs, house plans, money, etc.). A new onslaught of dust. Sally and I joke about "when the dust settles" and how it may never settle. I prefer to think that once in a great while the dust settles for a time, but mostly there are periodic, eddying clouds, and every now and then we get a full blown storm.

No more hiatuses (hiati?) from the blog. It is not a burden, this writing we share. And I'd rather make a small post than nothing at all.

Checking In

A lot goes on that is not, even in this digital age, memorialized in a post, or a text or whatever.

Today, when I needed to cry and ask you for - you, you responded by calling, and talking, and taking me seriously. Even though you had work to do. My request could easily have been called frivolous, or dumb or I don't know what, but you did none of those things and (I submit) this is one important reason I love you - that you take loving me as seriously as anything else you do.

What more could I ask?

Posted by Sally, who is in a depression currently but hoping to rise.

Darling Harry-

I really don't feel ignored because you haven't responded joyously (and/or immediately) to my post about getting married.

Because I know you, and I know that a post on the Internet is something you need to consider, schedule and mull over. And that you have been sick (thanks to me) and very very busy (thanks to tax season, and etc., etc.

I'm sorry it's all such a burden. I understand. Don't do sick well myself.

Just remember that I love you, (and I know you love me) we are and will be fine, even if the Republicans won the Massachusetts senatorial seat. We still get to sleep together every night, in the best bed in the universe.

We'll find the house to spend our life together in. Our children will thrive.

You'll get over this cold and we'll have the --x we've been postponing, and more.

And we will get back to talking about getting- no, being, married.


(Posted by Sally)

The New Year

Harry texted me to say he had a resolution for the new year - to marry me.

It was one of those days when I arrive at work already late; never even took my mobile out of the bag I dropped on the floor beside my desk 8:03 am until I was ready to leave (to go to my second job) at 4 pm. Then, I briefly looked at my vm (There were the usual 16 from 800 numbers) and three texts, two from Harry and one billing notice from my car insurance. I was running late, so I opened none of these (saving Harry for a quiet moment) but drove to job #2, where there were 18 things I had to do YESTERDAY; yadda yadda yadda as they used to say on Seinfeld; then (much) later I got home, and Harry and I kissed, chatted and went to bed in the brisk, efficient It's-a-school-night-after-all way we've evolved...

Anyway, I didn't even see his text until the next day.

Harry and I have talked about getting/being married; it was only date three or four when I remember him asking me, with his head on the pillow of the bed in which I had lately despaired of marriage AS AN INSTITUTION, not that long ago,

"So, would you ever get married again?"

I wasn't prepared for the question. I said (and it still strikes me as true as anything else I might have come up with, then or since)

"Yes, but I just NEVER want to be divorced again."

We bought wedding rings last summer. They are on Harry's dresser and I sneak looks at them occasionally, although I've NEVER put mine on my finger, (except that one time we were buying them, to make sure it fit) because it would be very bad luck.

I do want to be married to Harry.

A quote (or probably a paraphrasing) from a book I read recently, more than once:

(The Post-Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver)

"...he wasn't all that interested in getting married, but he was interested in being married"

(italics mine)

-captures my feeling precisely.

I have fantasies of elegant alfresco parties; long tables set outdoors (in southern France) with white tablecloths blowing in the wind and food and wine and dancing . . . there would of course be my daughters, both of whom tend to wheeze in nature; and Harry's kids, who when eating outdoors expect barbecued whatever and soda or at least kool-aid for drink. . .

There would be all our beloved friends & and my adopted "family" from Thanksgiving and Harry's relatives (who may or may not care that Harry is in love but to do them justice, he's been in love before) and the few precious common friends we have made (somewhat haphazardly) we've been so focused on each other and our children.

But hey, this is my fantasy, okay?

So we all congregate in the garden of a home Harry and I have yet to find and we all drink wine, eat elegant food and maybe dance in the garden. Harry and I have a chance to smile at our fate, and to declare that whatever happens we are TOGETHER.

That's all I want.

Posted by Sally.