Reflections on moving, from the summer

Now to catch up on our move and relocation. I started this post back in July, shortly after we relocated to South Bend and were living in a condo for six weeks until we could move into our new home - I'll leave it mostly unedited to remember what I was feeling as we prepared to uproot our lives again after the wonderful trip to Europe. So, from July:

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The past 2 weeks I have felt like a sloth, moving sooo slowly, sitting in one spot much too long. But the two months prior, really 3 - April to June - zoomed by. I was like a mouse or a chipmunk, a speedy rodent racing to survive: scurry, pause, scurry, scurry, pause, scurry, sleep briefly with ears on alert...

So now it's time to reflect: the school year was a success. I received many sweet notes from my 7th and 8th grade students, notes that I have stashed in an envelope somewhere to read again at some point when I am feeling down. By sleeping an average of 5 hours or less for a couple months, I was able to keep up with the nature writing course online that I thought might have been a mistake to say yes to, but I had the best students yet - they were engaged, insightful, and punctual; they turned things in on time. I suspect at least a few, if not many, may have used AI to augment their assignments. I questioned a couple students who referenced works we did not read in class, works that aren't on the reading lists of anyone but specialists. Unlike regular plagiarism, the use of generative technology is difficult to prove, so I asked for references and got a rewrite.  The bonus, if there is one, is that the longer, more complex discussion posts that may have been AI assisted or generated motivated the students who weren't using AI to write more. 

And then I was able to get everything packed, first for our Europe trip and then for the move. We'll see how much is broken. I paid someone to help me pack the kitchen. Unfortunately, I wasn't happy with his performance. The guy's mother-in-law had been recommended by a realtor friend, but she was unavailable and recommended her son-in-law who used to work for a moving company. He seemed to do good work the first day, fine work the second day, but the third day, he didn't bring extra supplies, he was on his phone every time I walked by, and he smelled like pot. I had to repack half the boxes he packed because they wouldn't shut and the pictures inside weren't properly wrapped. Then I found multiple kitchen drawers that he didn't pack, so I was crushed. Lesson learned: Monitor the work, inspect the work and be honest about work that is not up to par.  I didn't inspect his work the last day before I paid him, but I ended up texting him the next morning and letting him know I was dissatisfied. Happily, he was a honest and perhaps repentant soul, so he offered to refund the money for the last hour, since I had to repack.  

Thankfully, I had wonderful neighbors and friends who came to the rescue. I can't believe how helpful they were. They pitched in and wrapped things, took things to the donation center, brought over snacks and drinks, took away some of my condiments and undonatable food I couldn't stand to throw away, although they might have trashed it all, and our dear, handy, neighbor even helped me reconstruct a crate for our marble topped side tables.  Our wonderful neighbors two doors down offered us their home to stay the night before we left since they were off on their summer vacation. Everyone was just so generous. As I write this, I am feeling overcome with gratitude and loneliness. In my exhaustion and manic work mode, I know I didn't thank them properly. 

The move was challenging - I didn't give myself time to sort and pack properly. I cleaned thoroughly as I emptied each room, even renting a steam cleaner for the carpets and touching up paint throughout the house - using small bottles of acrylic craft paint. But I still left the new owners some cash for cleaning the windows and a first clean because I didn't quite leave it as clean as I meant to. In retrospect, I think I probably did a pretty good job scrubbing out 4 years of dust from under beds, etc. Other than not cleaning the windows, I did get most of the work done that I meant to do, including some yard work and getting a drainpipe cleaned out in the back patio. It was full of mud and roots. I hired a company to come and snake it out, but the guys' power snack broke. He got it mostly reamed out, but it still wasn't clear, so I worked at it with a trowel and pike and eventually got it cleaner, to the detriment of my knuckles and nails, which were scraped and knicked from reaching into the front end and the back end of this drainline.  This was purposeful work, but it was also a distraction from the more pressing job of packing up the house.  

Another thing that set back packing was the visit from college daughter's boyfriend in the middle of all this. It was her 19th birthday week, and she promised to really dig in and help, and she did, if he could come to Austin for a few days before we left the city of fun. Although at the time it was stressing me out a little bit to be unable to pack up the kitchen, the visit did provide a moment to look around one more time - we went to the low water crossing with the paddle boards and spent a few hours doing the very quintessential Texas summer thing - a river float. Well, actually a river paddle... but... I can think of several other things I wanted to do before we left - more hikes! more concerts! wineries in Fredericksburg! the Schlitterbahn! Maybe someday we'll come back as tourists and do these things again.  The fun had to come to an end at some point because there was so much to pack. Sometimes you don't realize how much you have until you start pulling it out. Mountains of stuff had to get packed even after downsizing 4 years ago when we moved from California.

Oh, and we attended our godson/nephew's wedding in Houston!  How could I forget! It was a joyful affair and a wonderful opportunity to spend time with extended family in the Southwest before moving on.  And there were a couple swim meets, a couple dinners and luncheons with friends, and a going away party to attend. 

Although it took some near all-nighters, it all got done because it had to. The new owners had to be out of their place and started moving in while we were still cleaning out stuff. I sent multiple loads of junk to Goodwill with the very helpful college daughter, but not enough. I mourn a bag of ND t-shirts that I was saving for my sister-in-law's kids because they love the Irish, but in a moment of rashness I sent that along to the thriftstore, and of all the silly things to be sad about, I keep fearing that a little tee that was my husband's was in the bottom of the bag. I meant to go through it. I also gave a neighbor a booster chair that would've been perfect for our granddaughter, even though the other neighbor's husband lovingly restored it. I felt awful about that. He did such a nice job, but my dear neighbor who always watched our dog really wanted it for her granddaughter.  Quandary! I hope the gift was not seen as a rejection. Meanwhile, I brought along all these bags of odds and ends but left behind things we might have really used. Ah well. It's all just stuff, I keep reminding myself. I meant to go through old boxes of mementoes and whatnot - that will have to be done on the other side.  Or will be done by my children when I die - I really should do that Swedish Death Cleaning practice so they don't have to deal with it all. 

And yet here we are. With the two youngest girls and the dog, we shipped it all off and drove safely north by the grace of God. Packed it all up, sent it with the movers who loaded it on a truck and took it to storage, drove to OKC for a last visit with the grandparents and then to Tulsa for a visit with the cousins, who just moved into a huge new house with a giant yard.  Made me reconsider for a minute what we were doing buying an old house in an historic district with a small yard. Envy is my great weakness.  I also am sorry to be leaving the in-laws. Although the drive to their home was 5-6 hours, depending on Dallas traffic, we were able to see them every couple of months or so. It was psychologically comforting to be closer, especially after my father-in-law's frightening battle with bladder cancer followed by an infection this spring.  We were able to come up and see him immediately, without having to schedule a flight, although my husband did fly from South Bend a couple of times.

From there, it was on to my parents' farm for a couple days because my dear husband was on a work trip in Oregon that at one point I was going to attend. Sigh. I keep wanting to visit that part of the Pacific Northwest. Again, fighting envy is nearly a full time job for me. Although the days under the care of my mother were a respite. Despite being over 50, I still sometimes just want to be with my mom.  I slept in longer than I had slept in a least a year. 

Even so, I am still so weary. For the past couple weeks, I've been lounging around this condo, walking the dog, shopping for couches and rugs, scrolling Facebook marketplace, looking at paint and tiles for a bathroom renovation, trying to stay upbeat for the daughters who are missing their friends when I'm already lonesome for the life we left, even though I never really put deep roots down. It's surprising how even a place that you didn't choose, a place you resist, can claim your heart after time.  I didn't want a big suburban house with a pool, but how we loved that pool in the end! Floating in the lukewarm water in the evening after a 100 degree day, looking up at the dimming sky and the brightening stars and the swooping bats, is a pleasure I don't want to forget.  The brilliantly colored hues, flaming reds and purplish blues, of the wildflowers scattered through the green belt behind us, followed by the big sunny blooms of the cacti, the shaded walk along the creek to the old stone house that consoled a lonesome heart many days, my thriving rosemary and lavender shrubs, the twisting limbs of the live oaks, the warmth of the walking stones on bare feet - but most of all, the generous friendship of people at school, in our neighborhood, at church, our Navy friends: all of it was a grace I did not appreciate enough. And now the ache of the loss and the uncertainty about the future weigh on me, adding to the exhaustion. 

And yet, I am glad to be where we are. There is the relief of getting through all of those hard weeks - the adrenalin rush has ceased. And there is the consolation of seeing God's hand at work. So many things fell into place - getting the job, selling the house, finding a new one, being welcomed by the community here, even getting another teaching job, this time back to part time for the present while we get settled - that it is hard not to feel Providence at work. I am grateful deep down, even though it is hard to find the energy to show it. 

Goodbye, old house!

A nineteenth birthday for a lovely young lady!

Hello, low water crossing! 

Paddling on the river.

A wedding! Blessings to the happy couple!

Enjoying the pool while we can.

One of several donation loads. Why did I get rid of a bookshelf?!

Taking a break to watch my neighbor reconstruct some crates.

The boxes ready to load.

The empty living room. The new owners plan to put in wood floors, something I always wanted to do. But tile is so practical. 

The load in the moving truck.

The load in the vehicle

Goodbye, stuff. The trash. Don't worry; it's all broken and used up. I've got too much of the hoarder in me to throw away something usable. 

My navigator leaning out the window at a red light to fix the top carrier straps.

Time with grandparents

Travel buddy

Baby time at Nana and Pop's

My plants made it! They were transported by our college son, who rented a minivan after the wedding to move back to SB for his summer job. Another piece of the moving jigsaw that fell into place.

Old pillow gifted by a friend. I could probably collect less. 

County fair time!

.. and hello, new house!

Updates - Moving again

July 3rd.

Midsummer has come and gone. Many days have passed and many things have happened since the last time I wrote, and although I cannot chronicle them all, I find myself with a minute to look back and reminisce and to look forward as we embark on a new chapter.

I am also grieving the last chapter of our lives and anxious about the next and hope that writing for a minute might help clear my mind, as I can't seem to move out of the mental spiral I find myself in. 

The latest update is that we have packed up and left Texas and arrived in northern Indiana, where my husband has been living and working since the end of January. We stopped along the way to see both sets of grandparents and one set of cousins. The cousins have a big, beautiful, newly built house with a huge backyard and a pool that is making me question our decision to leave suburbia and return to urban life.  And another friend sent photos of their new farm in Pennsylvania. Then we spent a day at my parents' farm in southern Indiana.  Rural life was also looking attractive. 

So when we drove up to our new house that I had only seen online and in a Facetime call, my stomach dropped. My 19 year old, who was with me, said, "Oh Mom, I don't think this is your forever home." And I felt the same thing. My heart didn't leap up; it sank. We will have only a tiny backyard, which is actually a side yard since the house in on a corner, with a little patio, a small plot of grass, and a koi pond - bonus! The front and side yards are landscaped nicely, but in my mind the back yard was bigger, more of a sanctuary space. And in person, the house paint looks shabby, the front entrance needs an update, and the windows are ancient.

We looked at many houses, and my husband looked at this one in person. We put an offer in on one (not one of the two in the last post) and sacrificed the earnest money to make an offer on this one. The one we had an offer on was tiny and dark inside and needed a major renovation/addition to accommodate our family, but the price was great, it was in the neighborhood we liked, and it had a beautiful yard. The house we will sign for tomorrow was actually one I looked at on Zillow based on pictures from 10 years ago when it was sold last after it was renovated.  Dan Face-timed me when he walked through, and we both loved what we saw. It was so much better than what we had looked at before in terms of space and updates.  But I didn't look closely at windows and and bathroom fixtures, and for some reason, I thought the yard was oriented differently and was larger.

Then I also started fretting because the kitchen is in the back of the house and connects to a dining room and a small sitting room, but not to the living room. I like the detailing in the house - it's an older home with nice moldings and built-in bookshelves, and it has a sizeable basement and 4 bedrooms, plus a little office that can function as a guest room. There is much to like about it, but it is just not what I thought it was.

This is the peril of online shopping. Ask me why I didn't fly out to see it myself when it first came on the market? We had to decide quickly because there were two other offers on the house. And then I was so, so, so busy at the end of the school year, and I had just been out to visit to see the little house with the great yard that we had put an offer on two weeks before.  I had driven by this house, but didn't really pay attention to it, other than to note that it was the house I had seen online.  I trusted my husband's opinion, and I was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of work we would had to have done to transform the little house.

So there I am looking at buying a house I didn't really love. Was this just "cold feet" before a big purchase? My feet literally tingled with anxiety.  

I spent hours that first night here researching real estate deals gone bad. What happens when a buyer backs out at the last minute?  They lose the earnest money. They could be sued. But what happens when someone buys a house then decides it isn't right for the family?  They could lose thousands in the process of selling and buying a different place. Moving is expensive - the fees, the commissions, the insurance, packing costs, the moving company, new curtains and rugs, and the replenishing of all the groceries and cleaning supplies and stupid things like toilet bowl brushes and trash cans that you give and throw away and have to purchase again on the other end, etc. 

And then there is the emotional cost. Our family is mourning friendships, neighbors, our fun house and million dollar view, our parish and school, my students, the Texas rivers, Austin hikes, and even the things we didn't do yet- we never went to the Schlitterbahn! Why, I even spent a ridiculous amount of time moaning about a bag of old ND t-shirts I gave away to Goodwill at the last minute because they might have had sentimental value. Meanwhile I crammed into the car a ridiculous amount of junk with no value, including 5 old laptops, discarded by the kids when they updated, that we never sent to the e-waste place, because I wasn't sure if the kids had scrubbed the hard drives. 

Why was I mourning old t-shirts? Because I feared that in the bag was a little Notre Dame t-shirt that my husband had worn as a child and then our boys wore when they were little.  I'd been saving the bag to give my sister-in-law, whom we were going to see, for her littlest son. Silly thing to feel sad about, but it represented bigger losses -  the loss of childhood, the loss of connections to the past, and my lack of preparation for leaving. I packed in a rush and didn't give myself time to sort through old things, so in a moment of distress about how much stuff was sitting around, I told my daughter to take the bag along with multiple other bags of stuff that we didn't need to the donation center.

How did we have so much stuff? We just did this 4 years ago. Why didn't I get rid of more? I threw away huge loads of junk, gave away huge loads of junk, and still had loads of junk packed into boxes and shoved into the car. We had boxes of papers we hadn't opened since we left California - some of them hadn't been opened even before that move. They are full of papers from my husband's job and from our children's art and from my class notes. All stuff that is either now irrelevant, online, or just a memento that no one really wants to treasure forever - scribbles from pre-school years, pictures from fourth grade, papers from 9th... I held on to much more from our older kids than the younger ones, so there is an irregular distribution of mementoes.

I also held onto other old t-shirts with the idea of making t-shirt quilts, but here again I don't have an even number for each kid. I stopped keeping them because I realized it was a futile gesture that wasn't ever going to get finished. I haven't even made photo-books for the last 10 years. 

All this unnecessary stuff! All these unfinished projects! 

And now here we are living in a temporary 4 bedroom furnished apartment which is just fine without most of our stuff. (I do have those dead laptops still!)  We closed on the new house Tuesday despite my anxieties, but we are giving the owner a month rent back while he relocates (part of the reason he took our offer).  

Actually, after our walk-through, I felt better about the house. It is a good size for us - not too big when it is just my husband, our daughter, and I, but big enough to accommodate a sizable group when the kids come home or friends visit. We are going to renovate the bathrooms right away, paint a couple rooms, and get new windows and screens for the sun room this fall. Other new windows and updates like exterior paint and adding a front portico, can wait till next spring.  Our daughter is excited about picking out wallpaper, an area rug, and new furniture for her room. We're all excited about outfitting the game room in the basement - but that may take place over time, too. 

After a couple of days of getting used to adjusted expectations, I feel better about the house, but I'm not sure it's our forever house, and I'm giving up on the idea that such a thing exists as I observe our aging relatives moving out of their "forever homes" into smaller places. There's a part of me that wishes we had committed to renting for a year to get a feel for the area and what our next chapter will look like. That was sort of the idea with the little house - buy it to live in for a bit until we decided what we wanted in a future home.  But part of the problem is that what I want shifts all the time - one minute small, sustainable, and tidy is appealing, the next minute, wide open spaces are what I crave. 

I haven't forgotten (and neither has my husband) the anxiety I felt about our Texas house, which was such a shift from where we were before. Big, expensive, contemporary.  I lost a lot of sleep about making such a big commitment, but we were happy there. The kids loved it. The neighbors were great. After having a fraught relationship with the pool in Coronado, I ended up loving the Texas pool, which we swam in every day before we left. The neighbors came over to swim almost every day, too! The game room and bar and movie theater at our Texas house bothered me when we were moving, but by the time we left, they were part of the fun. And now guess what we are putting in our new basement? A projector and either a pool table or ping pong table or something. The 19 yr old has requested a peloton or treadmill. And under the stairs is a little bar space - snack bar, that is. Perfect for making popcorn and serving up soda or hot chocolate!

If moving all these times has taught me anything, it's that we can make anything into a home. We tend to pendulum swing from smaller, urban houses to bigger, suburban houses each time we move.  I just want the kids to want to come and see us and to feel comfortable staying as long as they want/can, although I know our lives have shifted.  The 19 yr old said she feels like she doesn't belong anywhere, but she'll always have a home with us, wherever we are.  The platitudes about home being wherever we are together ring true. Soon we'll be putting out a new welcome mat and turning on the lights to welcome all!

Life cycles

 I think for Lent I should have given up Zillow. 

We have decided .... nothing. I spend a lot of time scrolling through Zillow and Google Earth. 

Both houses mentioned in the past post haven't sold, and I still haven't been able to commit to them or any other. I'm starting to drive my husband bonkers. The bigger, more expensive house is probably off the list. My husband has shifted his preference to a different neighborhood, and that one needs more work than is in our budget. The Tudor is still on the market. It didn't sell right away as we thought it might. My husband really wanted to make an offer, but I was hesitant, even though I can see us living there.  It's the kind of house that suits our eclectic style. It has a wonderful 3 season porch where we'd likely spend most of our time. But the back yard is tiny - and dominated by a large evergreen - maybe a hemlock? It shades the back corner and probably makes the soil acidic. Additionally, we'd have to add a second full bath, probably in the basement, and reconfigure the dining room into an office/guest bed and the family room into the dining room.  And I can't decide if our living room furniture fits Tudor aesthetic. So get new, you say! But still I feel like this house is priced a little high for this neighborhood.

In the meantime, a couple other options in that same neighborhood have come on the market. Both need substantial work. One really isn't an option - too much work for too much money. The other one is now my husband's favorite. It has a bigger yard and is located just slightly further into the neighborhood away from the busy street you turn off of to enter the community.  

But this one also would be a total redo. Even more substantial than the first one, and this one is even smaller, although it has an attached garage that my husband has an idea to turn into a family room. I have a hard time envisioning the completed house. I can see how the tiny kitchen and dining room could be combined, and the back porch rehabbed, but I have a hard time imagining how to make the teeny bathrooms bigger and how to make the dark front entry brighter. In addition, at one time a row of ten evergreens were planted along the back fence. These are now towering skinny, scraggly trees that look like a hazard in a big storm. They should probably be replaced. The juniper bushes in the front are tree-sized and need to be removed.  If the garage is turned into a family room, a new garage would have to be built.  It's a huge project, almost like building from scratch, and I don't know if I'm up for that. I can't even pick a dress for my son's wedding; how could I make the decisions for a total house remodel? Considering how crazy the markets are right now, building materials may be unobtainable any way.

So should we go back to the original house we were attracted to? Maybe it is sitting there waiting for us. My initial hesitation about its small yard and small kitchen could be overcome because it is the best option for now. Or maybe we need to let go of the dream to live in a more urban area in an older home and just get the big house in the suburbs, like what we have now.  Fortunately, we have a back-up plan: my husband has found a place to rent for 6 months to a year.  

But enough about the house. I haven't written enough about the fact that we are grandparents! This is by far the highlight of the year.  Our little granddaughter is a smiley, round doll baby. She is so easy and good! Our son and daughter-in-law just took her on a long trek to see her great-grandparents, and apparently, she was a perfect traveler. She slept long stretches and smiled and cooed for her great-grandparents, who needed some sunshiney baby time because my father-in-law had just had surgery for a cancer and had some complications. We are praying for him to have a full recovery, although it sounds like he may need a second surgery to make sure they got everything. 

Meanwhile school has been going great, which makes it harder to tell everyone that I'm leaving soon. But after Easter the message will go out. In the meantime, I am trying to enjoy these moments, even as I obsess about houses and have a constantly growing bulletin of to-dos cycling in my brain.  After all these moves, I know we'll continue to find community and purpose wherever we land, but it's never easy to say goodbye.  Even if we were staying, things change. Other people come and go - here we have seen some startling, saddening changes among our friend group lately in between death and divorce.  

And so we start again.

Our Google Earth journey of addresses, estimated. Need more Pacific NW.

The latest

March came in like a lion, but it is now lamblike. The season of Lent has arrived with sunny skies and mild temperatures. Meanwhile memories of a frigid February are fading, as signs of spring brighten each morning. 

Taking a moment to reflect on Lent since I haven't written in a bit. This Lent has some privations out of my control - my husband is working 1000 miles away. Most of my kids are grown. Teaching takes up all my time - except the hour just wasted deleting junk email and sifting through old message attachments in order to avoid having to pay extra storage fees because we have maxed out the gigabites we get for free after 20 some years. This is the sort of activity I should give up for Lent, and to a certain extent, I have greatly limited my media use. I've been intending to accompany my sacrifice of media time with in increase in prayer, spiritual reading and acts of charity-  I have plenty of need to grow in holiness in other ways.

For the meantime, I have resolved to follow Pope Francis's request and give up most social media (counting this as a journal, not social media). I am still checking in occasionally to see if my kids share anything, but I trying to sacrifice the doom scroll. I need to accompany this with giving up reading the Wall Street Journal cover to cover. . . 

All these things! Cutting back on them all should free me for more time to read and to worship; instead all of my "extra" time has been spent looking at Zillow.

Yes, our move is a reality. Since I last wrote over 2 months ago, my husband has taken a new job up north, about 2 hours from our first grandbaby and 3 from my parents. We are doing the "Geo-bach" thing, as they call it in the Navy - he's in South Bend, and I'm finishing the school year in Texas. It's not ideal, but two months have flown by, so I assume the next 3 will fly.  Our plan is to move north after the last day of school, our son's wedding, and our nephew's wedding. And maybe the 4th of July... 

I am relishing every day here. The weather is beautiful. School is going well. Our friends are wonderful. I feel guilty that my husband is living in a tiny condo surrounded by college students who have a very different schedule than he does - and the walls are thin enough he can hear them. 

We spent half of last week with him on a house hunting mission over spring break.  We found some options, but I am feeling really hesitant to commit. Meanwhile, my husband would put an offer in on the first house he looked at if I let him.  Right now we have 2 good options that we need to act on if we are going to make an offer. A third option has my favorite yard, but it is a mid-century home stuck in the mid-century (not yet modern...) and though it is on a nice street, it is hemmed in by busier streets. It's been on the market almost 3 months, so we are passing on that one. 

The other two aren't on the market yet. They are both older homes and both need some work to make them work for our family. The first is a very, very cute Tudor that is updated with excellent taste, but it is only a 3 bedroom. We would want to renovate a dining room + laundry room into a first floor primary suite, add an apartment over the garage and connect the garage to the house with a greenhouse-like breezeway. I would also like to open up the kitchen into the next room which now is set up as a den but would make a better dining room because it is next to the kitchen. 

This house would work for us, and it is nicely appointed and cute. Very Tudor living room, though, with exposed beams and a pitched roof, and a narrow staircase leading upstairs to the bedrooms. A hidden tiny room off the primary BR could function as an extra sleeping space. The stairs are intimidating to me - if our parents came to live with us, these stairs would be treacherous. Same with the stairs to the finished basement. It is not a house for elderly right now.

Also, it is closer to downtown, which is seeing a revival right now, but has historically been pretty sketchy. This particular house is in a neighborhood  that has been insulated from local crime, but it is closer to the cross street that signals the end of the less - crime ridden neighborhood.

The other house is close to campus where we had initially targeted living, although many of the houses are turning to Air BNBs, which is great when you need extra overflow, but may disrupt the feel of the neighborhood as a communicy. This house is expensive, but needs updates, mostly paint, but also windows, another bathroom, and the basement redone. Add a kitchen gut to make it work for our lifestyle.

So what to do???

Wait to see if something better comes up? South Bend isn't actually a haven of cute houses.  Is it worthwhile to wait and hope something at least more in line with our preferences, or is a ? I said last time that I wasn't going to get in a pressure situation, but here we are.  It's basically neighborhood vs. renovation.

                             

Looking forward, looking back

 Time for the annual look back - look forward post!  I think I've already quit my New Year's resolutions - or haven't started them yet. I know there's a lot of back and forth about the wisdom of making resolutions, and I suppose I could do a little science experiment and go back over the past 12 years or so of writing a beginning of the year post to assess if I've made any lasting changes. The results would probably be mixed. I know every year I resolve to get more sleep and drink more water, but I haven't yet succeeded. Note that growth mindset "yet" - I'm still trying! But I think in other ways I have made some progress - I like to think I'm a little better at letting things go, at releasing the illusion of control. I like to think that years of saying goodbye have made me a little more grateful for friendship, for beauty, for the time we have. Maybe that's just age.

One thing that is different this year - I have been feeling my age. My feet hurt constantly, my cholesterol is up, my joints are stiff, and my vision is terrible.  I try to avoid looking in the mirror at my wrinkles and gray hair. Worst of all, I catch myself thinking about the kids in ways that are outdated; I have to remind myself they won't live with us any more. For instance, I cleaned out the linen closet and realized I don't need to keep as many twin bed sheet sets and pillows anymore because no one is having sleepovers anymore.  

In between aging and working full time, my fitness resolution is a little different this year because I have to be more intentional about things like getting my heart rate up and stretching. I used to do those things without thinking.  Last year I ran very little. This year I will likely run hardly at all. But I do need to find something to get my heart rate up. My most recent dr's appointment revealed elevated cholesterol, and I firmly believe it is less from a change in diet than a steep decline in vigorous exercise that elevates my heart rate. The solution - plan the time, realizing it doesn't have to be running. I did "Just Dance" with my daughter today and was breathing heavy by the end.

Also new this year: fewer carbs.  Until the last year or so, I was able to eat carbs without ill effect. Now I don't burn the calories I used to burn exercising. The upside is that I don't crave the carbohydrates I used to crave. I started the day with a bowl or two of cereal every day for years and couldn't imagine cutting back. Now I'm lucky if I eat breakfast.  Even so, I've gained weight and lost muscle. Time to cut back on carbs and sugar, woe!  

And of course, drink more water and get more sleep...

In regard to those other pillars of an integrated life - faith, family, academics, and community - I'm really embracing the pilgrims of hope theme for the year promulgated by Pope Francis. We'll be in Rome for our son's wedding this May, so we'll get to experience the Jubilee year opening of the doors. I want to really do some preparation of heart and mind for this, although I haven't really set out how/what to read, etc. We also are talking about making a trip to Lourdes as a part of that European vacation. We were married at Our Lady of Lourdes almost 29 years ago. It seems fitting to make a pilgrimage of thanksgiving. 

In between preparing for that trip and for moving, I will be busy, but with my husband starting his new job, life around the house will be quieter.  I'm hoping to use some of the time to do some of the volunteer things and travel things I've been meaning to do with our 10 year old.  I want to go out with the Mobile Loaves and Fish truck sponsored by a parish near us that serves the hungry in our community and serve donuts on Sundays. That seems kind of simple, but it's a job the church is always asking for help with. 

The other thing I want to shoehorn in with my daughter is visiting a few more of the state parks around here before we move, especially Enchanted Rock, Caddo Lake, and Palo Duro and Big Bend if I can find the time. Enchanted Rock should be easy to do. The other three are farther away, and we'll also be doing some traveling to see the kids/husband some weekends.   

Before I finish up the school year, I want to finish writing out a curriculum map. There was nothing for me when I got here, and working on the vertical alignment of the ELA curriculum has been a goal for the school this year. I'm still trying to match up standards of learning with units for the two grades I teach. It makes me sad to thing here I am finally getting a good handle on our goals and how to reach them when it's time to go. Will I return to the classroom next year? That's something I'm praying about this year. 

I'll also be praying for our house to sell and the grace to trust something will work out with housing if it doesn't. The high interest rates are discouraging.  If we don't sell this house, we'll have a hard time financing a new one, and the rental market is saturated.  Finding and financing housing is always the most stressful part of moving.  The move here in 2021 was particularly stressful because of the post-pandemic shortages in housing and low interest rates that artificially inflated the price of housing. We'll surely lose some and maybe a lot of money on this house.

But blessedly, we have a cushion, and while the financial hit would be uncomfortable, it's survivable. The fires in California are a tragic reminder of how quickly possessions can be lost - and how a house/wealth/stuff isn't what makes life worth living.  Not to diminish the importance of a home, shelter, mementoes, roots - the losses are devastating. But the human heart is resilient and many, hopefully most, if not all, of the people suffering catastrophic losses will find the support and inner determination to start again, even if somewhere else, not in such a lovely but liable place. Or perhaps in the same place, just with more protections - personal hydrants, sprinkler systems, etc. - or more agility to pivot/evacuate quickly.  I was reading about how some of the very wealthy people impacted by the fire have second and third homes to retreat to, but the working class people are struggling to find lodging because landlords are price gouging and charging exorbitant rents.  On the other hand, there are just as many stories about people opening up room in their homes. May the generous side of human nature continue to win out. 

All of these things are cause for prayer.  I'll be praying for answers to big questions, trying to start new habits, find a new home, discern what our newest iteration of life will look like, while at the same time trying to soak up the goodness of our place here, to spend quality time with the friends here, to get to some of the places we meant to visit, to make the most of what we have here before we go. And of course praying for the needs of loved ones and strangers in need. 

New Year, New Beginnings

Perhaps my New Year's resolution should be to post more often - or to just give up this blog. Blogs are out of style, our life has changed, etc. But I do like coming back to this place and reading about what I thought - something I never do with diaries.  I also like that in an era when everything is constantly changing, this little corner of the internet remains the same. I probably should not say that too loud or Blogger may disappear, but here we are.  One of my new year's resolutions is to try to update at least what I'm reading once a month. 

I really didn't mean to let almost three months slip past before posting again.  My lack of posting isn't really due to being busy; I've been busy, but not any busier than I ever was.  Rather, we've had a lot of things simmering that took up time and thought. 

First, the biggest blessing of the year: Our first granddaughter was born! She has been long hoped for, so we are especially grateful for her sweet perfection. She is a real doll baby - weighing in a 9 pounds and 14 ounces at birth a just before Christmas, she is perfectly formed and has beautiful color, a full head of dark Italian hair, soft round cheeks, and the sweetest little rosebud mouth. We are in love! The whole family is thrilled to have a baby in the family again. Everyone was eager to hold her, and she was content to be passed around. Our son and his wife haven't stopped beaming. 

The other big news is that we will be moving again next summer. This wasn't entirely planned.  Just when we were feeling settled at home in Texas, the time has come to pull the roots up again. My husband has just been hired into his dream job. It seems almost too good, too smooth, to be true. Doors opened in a way that suggests Providence at work, except that he has worked hard and well for this opportunity. I am really proud of what he has accomplished here in a short amount of time. The notes from the people that work for him attest to his leadership.  He worked extremely hard to improve the working conditions for a lot of people. My daughter's friend, who is interning in the office, said people cried when he announced he was leaving. He cried. He is going to his dream job, but he is leaving behind a place that almost ate him alive, but now he has them eating breakfast tacos and donuts and birthday cakes... He prioritized the people who work for him - as well the faculty and students he serves- and they appreciated that.  

It is hard to leave a place where you have had such a positive impact, but I know he will continue to be just as dedicated to building morale at this new job. 

The best part of the new job is that we'll just be a couple hours from our new grandbaby and our son and daughter-in-law. We'll be 31/2 hours from my parents and siblings. We'll be 90 minutes from a major city and airports to which our coastal kids can travel easily - and close to a small local airport if needed.

The sad part is we'll be farther from my in-laws, my husband's siblings, and my brother.  We'll have to leave the wonderful community we've found here. We'll have to sell, probably at a loss, this party house that I've had a love/hate relationship with, but I've come to appreciate.  As much as I find the pool a labor and money drain, it has been luxurious to have one in the hot summers. It took me several years to learn to live larger, and now we'll likely return to simpler accommodations. No doubt, I'll miss the comforts like plenty of room in the kitchen and living spaces and a big pantry. We'll miss the great sunsets, the space for games and hanging out together, the mild winters, the view of the forest preserve, and the wonderful neighbors who are happy to help with the dog and the trash when we are gone or to join us for a happy hour or driveway party when we are home. It's a sociable place.

We'll also both miss our jobs here, even though we both experienced challenges our first year or so. I wouldn't claim to be an expert, but I've learned a lot about teaching in general and about middle schoolers and about myself. It turns out I enjoy middle schoolers. They make me laugh. 

Why is saying goodbye so hard? Readers may find it surprising that I feel so sad about leaving when I was not exactly a fan of Texas initially. There are still some things I find off putting about this place, but it has a distinct ethos. Texas knows and loves itself.  The terrain is often stark, but also startling, especially in this hill country area, and when the wildflowers are blooming.  The people are brash but loving.  We have again made wonderful friends, some of whom I haven't told yet because it is so hard to say goodbye, and the move isn't imminent.  My husband will start soon, but our 10 year old and I will finish up the school year before packing up after our second son's wedding at the end of May. 

The irony is that we are moving to a state I couldn't wait to leave when I was a teenager. I'm sure we'll find our spot and our people and settle into a rhythm and routine in this place, but I'm dreading the work of moving and starting over again, if I am honest with myself, even though I'm thrilled for my husband. I'm sad for my daughter and her best friend three doors down. I'm sad for my kids who went to high school here and made good friends. They won't know people when they come home for breaks. I'm sad for my in-laws, whom we've seen more of in the last couple of years than we did in the previous decade.  I'm sad for my older kids who like to visit us here, where we have plenty of space and there are lots of fun things to do and see out and about. We aren't exactly going to a cultural mecca for our next stop. 

This move will likely be for a longer duration, even though I dream of settling in a cute little town, maybe coastal, maybe in New England, maybe in the mountains. I don't know where I hope we retire, but I hope it is someplace with beautiful views and cultural opportunities and good trails nearby - sounds a lot like California or South Carolina or Maine - or our back yard here. I hope I am able to conquer my inability to stay, to attach, to feel at home, to at last find the place where I can finally feel that way. Maybe it will be an airstream trailer we knock about in to go and visit our kids and grandkids wherever they land. 

Now to go back to pretending we are staying here for a few more months. I'm hoping to wait until after spring break to talk about it with our friends and neighbors here.  I want to soak up our days here as fully as possible before they fade into memory.  

Back to school

Goodbye to August! Farewell to summer! Farewell, children, freedom, time!

All of the children who still go to school are now in school, and I have started teaching at a new school, as well. The start of a new school year is always exciting - new books, new pencils, new paper, new shoes, new teacher, new friends. . .  it a time marked with potential - to form relationships, to reform habits, to discover opportunities to serve and, of course, to learn.

And yet it is also marked with mourning, as we say good-bye to the big kids and the freedom of summer. 

Mrs. Darwin wrote about mourning her college kids' departures on her blog, and her description of finding a quiet place to cry struck a chord. I commented that I had a similar experience as I watched my husband drive away with our fifth child to take him to college. I had to sit down on the front step and catch my breath as the car pulled away and they were no longer waving back at me. I felt walloped in the gut. I needed one more hug. I had made him breakfast and helped go over his checklist, and then we had an hour or so of scurrying around the house and checking up on the to do list before it was time to head out the door. Why didn't we get one more hug in? Why didn't we sit and talk about important and meaningful things instead of loading the dishes and tidying up the kitchen? 

Usually I am the one that takes the kids to move in. This was the first send off I wasn't the parent driving off to the airport. The busyness of those weekends, checking off the lists of stuff, the physical labor of moving bags and boxes and catching flights and renting cars, usually is so exhausting that saying good bye is not so emotional - although I've shed a few tears in those rental cars. 

But seeing this fifth child off hit me hard. He's a part of the "littles." It was a hard year for him, and he had made it through, and we had grown closer in the process, I think.  So I called the boy up for one more goodbye, one more blessing, even though he and his dad weren't even to the highway yet. And good thing - they had driven off without the key to the storage locker where the older brother's hand-me-down futon, fridge, cheap carpet, and other sundries were locked up and waiting. So I got to speed off with the key to hand over and to grab that last hug at the interstate exit where they were waiting. 

I'm sure there's a meme about how saying good-bye doesn't get any easier with practice . . .

This past weekend, I was the one flying off and renting a car to help our oldest daughter move back into her apartment at college. She spent the summer in San Diego, couch surfing and house sitting and working for the rec center.  The moment of saying goodbye was back in June, when I was sad and hurt that she didn't want to spend the summer with us, but totally understanding of the reasons why. When I was 20, I wanted independence, too. In fact, that was the summer I spent in the UP working at a camp for kids with special needs. Bay Cliff Health Camp it was called, and it was a magical, wonderful summer, but that's another story.

I think my daughter relished her summer, too. She went sailing and surfing and to the horse races and made dinners for herself and for her friends and got herself around town. She lived on her own dime and made it. When I arrived on Friday, we went for a walk and got lunch, did some shopping for apartment stuff, and then split up to spend time with our local friends one more time. Saturday morning we ran a fundraiser race together (with a couple of my mom friends along, too) and then drove up to her campus - after a stop at another friend's new house for lunch. Traffic through LA was a slog, so we had time to catch up and talk about the future, etc, before arriving for the move-in, which was much easier this time around, compared to last year, which was her sophomore year, but first year on campus.

This year she has an apartment on campus that she shares with 3 other girls. She stayed there Saturday night, but I drove up to the base, about 35 mins away to stay in the Navy Lodge, because I was too cheap to pay for a Malibu hotel and to worried about sketchy environs to get a more affordable hotel near the highway. (I was questioning that choice after the rental car company gave me a huge truck, the "upgrade" I didn't want, that was not cheap to fill up.) Then Sunday after Mass and brunch we did a little thrifting for kitchen items, but not too much, since the other roommates were still arriving and decorating will happen later.  We had a time for a short walk and sandwiches before I had to make the slog back to the airport.

The whole weekend felt somewhat surreal. I have now been back to San Diego 5 times since we moved a year ago. That's a lot - an unusual amount because of college moving, college visiting, and the graduation event. My friends were teasing me about when my next quarterly visit was going to be. I've practically socialized more with those friends far away than I have with people we are getting to know here. And perhaps it has prevented me from rooting here. I am still questioning the decisions we made last spring, and while everything is fine, good even, I miss the friendships that took years to develop, sunsets over the ocean with hills silhouetted in lavender, walking on the beach and to the library and Mass. I feel in limbo about investing in life here because I don't want to stay put.  Sometimes I just have to stop thinking.  I know if I read back over this blog, I would find post after post about feeling displaced, about looking forward to the next thing.  I am truly grateful for the opportunities we had to discover new places, and although I complained here about rootlessness - isn't that part of the purpose of journaling, to exorcise the complaints? - I did appreciate what we had at the time. But maybe not enough.  This lack of gratitude, this pining for elsewhere, is a sin, a failing, a fatal flaw, I'll spend my life fighting. 

Even now I am pining for the summer back. For the years back with the children small again. For the days when we took up a whole pew at Mass. Saturdays at the soccer fields. Friday night football. Camping trips. Beach days. Museum days. Birthdays. Reading at bedtime. Wasting time at the playground. Did I appreciate those years enough? Of course not, although I am grateful for being able to relive preschool days with the youngest, and now third grade... 

Ah melancholia.  This has been my little indulgence, now it's back to work. I have lessons to plan, poetry to read, grading, email, etc, etc. And then two more kids at home to enjoy for a short time. 

A last day outing: First the Elizabet Ney castle. She was a German sculptor who immigrated to Texas in the late 1870s. Made her career during busts of famous people and patrons.

Her home is now a museum. It's really a very small castle, but an interesting place to visit.

A life cast of an infant. Why didn't I do this with all our kids?

Last BBQ lunch at Blacks

And now a college student, doing his own laundry!

The third grader and junior off for their first day!

Posing

Feeling sad to say goodbye

Spending time with the older daughter

Apartment style living

Malibu waves and sunshine make it hard to leave

Summer update: House hunting

 Right after that beautiful weekend backpacking, my husband and I and our youngest flew to Austin to look at houses for three days. Austin has one of the most competitive housing markets in the country, or it did this summer. House after house we toured. Several had already sold by the time we got to them. Others were definite nos. A few were possibilities. We put an offer in on two. One went over asking price, and over our offer, which was above asking price. The other we got for a little under their asking price - probably because it was priced too high.  I didn't really want to put an offer in on any. I still think we should have sat out the housing market for a year and rented while we decided what we wanted to do, but after renting for the last ten years, my husband really wanted to buy a home. And there is a psychological difference beween living in your place and living in someone else's that you are borrowing for awhile.   

A break from househunting for ice cream cones

One house we looked at had an armadillo in residence under the deck

So we bought a house. And already plans have changed. We've already switched schools for one of the kids from one Catholic school to the other. I've wasted hours fretting about this commitment we've made. We spent a lot more than we intended. Although we can afford the payments because of the crazy low interest rates, I didn't want to take on this much debt - I wanted to have more money to save and to spend and to give away. My husband sees this as an investment. He was tired of throwing away money on a rental. However, I don't see us staying here long enough to make any money, unless by a miracle, prices continue to rise. I don't see how they can. I am also terrified we bought at the height of a market that could be a bubble and burst, although I read articles saying it is a balloon market in which growth will slow but won't pop. Let's pray. I obsessively check Redfin and Zillow and see that the value has gone up a tiny bit, which allays my anxiety for a minute, until I also search and see properties that could have worked for us that cost much less. 

Why didn't I back out of the offer when we had the seven day option period? I keep asking myself that, and I can't find a satisfactory answer that gives me peace of mind. The attraction of this house was that it has space and amenities for all the kids to come home and visit at the same time.. We have a guest room for grandparents and other friends and family. We have a beautiful view of a forest preserve and a golf course. We have a pool and a pool table (I swore at some point I never wanted a pool again, but it's hot here in Texas...). We have a movie room! - never something I wanted, but it can be turned into a sleeping room for kids. We also have two wine refrigerators, another amenity I could do without - something I plan to sell if we stay. Instead of wine refrigerators, I wanted chickens and a big garden, but the HOA here doesn't allow fowl. Should have read those rules sooner. We have wonderful live oaks, one of which has died since we bought the house - it was probably dying since the winter storm, but we didn't notice, nor did the inspector point it out.  Ups and downs. Highs and lows.

At the time we were in the option period, I was afraid we wouldn't find anything better. I was afraid - and hopeful - prices would continue to rise. I was afraid our kids, who already were tearful about leaving California, would mutiny if we rented for awhile and then had to pack and move again. I thought we needed some stability. And admittedly, I loved the view, although the house is a suburban giant unlike anything we have lived in before - we've typically lived in older, smaller, cozier places with more character in walkable neighborhoods. (We can walk here, but just through neighborhoods - not to a cute downtown restaurant or ice cream shop. Scratch that, we did walk a mile and a half to the local softserve ice cream stand, which was delicious and cheap.). I was afraid if we bought the smaller place I liked with a couple acres on a more secluded property, the kids would be unhappy. Farm life is something I crave, not them, and that place wasn't really a farm anyway. Then there was the pressure to decide.  We were negotiating over the Fourth of July weekend when we had company visiting and parties and parades. We were in the seven day option when company started arriving for my husband's Change of Command and retirement ceremony. We had to think about that ceremony, not houses, so we just said yes rather than looking at more houses. After we committed, I was a nervous wreck and didn't sleep for weeks. I lost ten pounds. I still don't sleep well. I kept hoping the inspection or the appraisal would give us a way out, but they both came back fine. The appraisal was exactly what we had offered. So I suppose that is a positive. 

Now I waste time calculating the amount of money we could potentially lose in a worst case scenario, which is if we decide we don't like it here, or a dream job opens up (Notre Dame?) in three years or less and the market has crashed, but we have to sell. Actual worst case is if husband loses job and we have to foreclose, but even I, the queen of worst case scenarios, feel that is unlikely, even for me to imagine - although not impossible. 

Best case scenario is the market continues to expand, at a more modest rate, of course - I don't see how it could continue to rise much, if at all, at this point, but it has, even though it has already slowed considerably in the last two months. But even if the market doesn't expand, if the house just maintains its current value, we could sell in three years without paying any money over what we owe, but we wouldn't walk away with any money after closing costs, since we put so little down. So we'd be in the same situation as if we had rented, although we'd save the costs of maintenance.  In a bad, but not quite worst case scenario, the housing market deteriorates modestly or uncomfortably. In my attempt to confront possibilities, I've suggested to myself that we could owe the mortgage company around $300,000 if it sold for the price it was listed seven years ago. In that case, we might try to find renters, and based on rental prices now, we would only be able to charge enough to cover mortgage and interest, but not taxes and insurance, so we would lose money every month - although maybe not as much  as $300K, if the market recovered in a few years, allowing us to sell. 

These are the kind of mental gymnastics that drive my husband batty.  I shouldn't be letting them circulate in my mind, but maybe by writing them out here, I can exorcise them out of my brain a little and avoid revisiting the doomsday visions. We have been so fiscally conservative up to this point - although we have always stretched a bit on housing - that it feels almost sinful to spend as much as we are on a house with all this space we don't need regularly. I tell myself that I can at least moderate the use of utilities and keep them lower than some other owner might have, and so help the planet in a miniscule way. It is a nice neighborhood, and I have met several nice neighbors. LK has a friend three doors down already and I have walked with two neighbors, and I just hired the college student across the street to teach piano lessons. We do have great places to hike - no mountain vistas, but trails not far away.  And we have conveniences like storage and two sinks and a big range with six burners. Luxuries. We have a place for everything except books. I need to get some more shelves. . . 

To make me feel like we are getting our money's worth, we need to fill the house up with guests to make the space worthwhile - so come see us! Family, friends, internet strangers... all are welcome!  We'll treat you right, as my uncle from Fort Worth used to always say. 

Coming in the next edition: Summer celebrations and visitors from near and far.