June 8, 2008
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Late or early, depending on one’s point of view
Late. Why I am awake is beyond me. It isn’t the heat. The air conditioners are in the windows and it is actually quite pleasant in here. The headache I had earlier in the day is gone. There is, however, a storm looming. It hangs over the village like a heavy blanket. The dogs are looking at me as if I have lost what little is left of my mind.
One rarely takes into consideration how stressful this redecorating nonsense is on animals. Bonnie wants her pasture back. It was bad enough when her sheep changed their sleeping arrangements with the re-done bedroom but all these strange smells and the movement up and down of furniture and trash has her in a snit. And now her favorite sheep is awake and restless in the middle of the night and she stares in wide eyed wonder trying very hard to herd me back to bed. She’ll settle, eventually, poor thing, happily content in the coolness of the living room, void of carpet and couch, and smelling suspicious with linseed oil and turpentine hanging in the air.
It was a long day yesterday and perhaps this wakefulness comes from thoughts that can’t seem to land. When did I become a person who passively waited for something to happen and lose the person who took action? How did that happen? It was a gradual loss, unnoticeable to anyone really looking. I continue to fight what I consider the good fight at work, advocating for children whenever possible, and perhaps that was a kind of shroud thrown over life at home. The children feel free to speak now and recall things I had long forgotten. S. said today, “I never noticed his absence, Mom, because you were always there. It was you and us and it was all we needed. You were always there. We had you and we knew that. We still know that.” In some ways that is incredibly gratifying. It is the life I wanted to build for my children – that certain knowledge that no matter what I would be there but in building that life did I somehow exclude their father? Am I right in thinking that one is only excluded if one chooses to be?
Tomorrow – or later today - brings painting the ceiling in the living room and refinishing a dresser that is covered in multiple layers of paint. That project is going to take more than linseed oil and turpentine to reveal the beauty of the wood underneath. With each step of this project, I spend time in my own heart, scraping away the layers, looking for what lies there, what lives underneath the paint. It is a good thing, this journey, requiring solvents and steel wool and elbow grease, both the metaphorical and the real. And the journey, while difficult and occasionally fraught, is both essential and exciting.
And so it goes.
Comments (6)
We just moved the futon mattress to a little cubby in the basement, where it is consistently 15 degrees cooler. We’ll see how/if we like it. If so, it’ll be like a sleepover! I read /Defining Dulcie/ today. I really enjoyed it. I was a bit put off by how neatly the end of each chapter was, but I can’t really complain about a guy who’s good at his craft… and that being his first novel and all. Thanks
That linseed on the soul~both refreshing and scarring in a way. Is it the age we are or is it just a season we pass through now and again?
Your dog sounds like my cat. She will take a week to get out of the “up at five for school” mode and into “we can sleep later if we wish” mode. Until then, pillows will be thrown. Sigh.
Good luck with the renovating…..this summer I’ll stick with cleaning I think…..
Beautiful writing.
there really is something so soul-gratifying about stripping away the old to create what is not really new but new to us aesthetically. we all need a fresh, clean jump out of the gate now and then.
Relationships are complicated things. The Taoist in me believes that we can only truly attempt to control our own actions and responses, not those of others. On the other hand, the pragmatist in me recognises that relationships exist because more than one person makes an effort.
Regardless, stripping away the finish to reveal what’s underneath can sometimes be a good thing… Or so I’ve heard.
I think it’s funny how animals look at us like we are crazy when we toss it up at home. I can see why that and other thoughts might keep you awake.
That heavy basket seems like it might be symbolic too. I think you are right a person chooses to be present and involved. It was a mantra in our growing up that we were to have quality time with dad because he didn’t have much int he way of quantity. Not perfect but somehow I never felt he was absent.
So a little more insight into the relining of the nest is here no? I hope the peeling away is good for the soul and empowering. You just may be a little impatient with thinking your are passive these days. I seems to me that you are doing the work to bear future fruits and that takes time.
And you do fight the good fight all the while. Not easy. Cut yourself some slack maybe?