Yankee in a Red State

The ramblings of an expatriate New Yorker in the South ~ formerly known as The Kudzu Kronikles ~

The flurry of packing has commenced.  I have hired movers, answered phone calls, faxed things, endured inspections and surveys, been sorely disappointed with a repair job for which I paid $450, and now my life goes back into the boxes.

I used to move on the average of once every 2.5 years.  My big toe would start to itch and I would be in a new apartment or house quick as a wink.  When my son was born, I had been in the first house I ever owned approximately 4 years.  I was hoping to set a record and so we stayed on in that 1889 canal-town house for another two years.  I would still be there if fate had not intervened as it has a habit of doing. I spent 2 years in Canandaigua, right downwind of the Canandaigua Wine Company  (mmm the smell of rotting, fermentation) then I spent the next 2.5 years hopping from place to place, ever further away from home, until I found myself alone, with my five year old son and a crazy ex husband, on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.  I proved to myself I could rough it and then I moved back closer to Rochester, first south, then just a skosh north of the 5&20,  That was before Florida.  We sort of know the rest of the story, grad school, met and married husband, boychild grew up to be a man, master's degree, yadda yadda yadda.

Each time I moved I would dread the part that goes like this:  I take everything with which I am familiar and put it into boxes.  I become unsettled with the stirring of pockets of dead energy, cobwebs and dust flying; the purge before the final push to get it all into the truck.  Once I am on my way, with the highway rolling beneath me, I start to feel better and I know I will, but this time I have to live out of a suitcase for a month and in the company of my in-laws who are graciously allowing us to stay with them until the semester is finished and I can make the graceful exeunt.

I keep remembering to breathe, to not freak out too much, to try to keep things calm and have compassion for my family members whose lives are also in upheaval.

 

posted by: willothwisp at 01:51 | link | comments (2) |
family and friends, new york state, ramblings and rants, canandaigua, 5 & 20, middle of nowhere

Closing

We sold our house today.

Then we found out that Hotzstuff's father's health is fading fast.

We knew this was coming.

I could make forced observations about cycles of life and death, decay and renewal, but the last time I lost a father in law to death I had a newborn son.  My own father died about six years later.

We close at the end of March.  Until then we wait for life to close for Mister Jim.

*Addendum:  James Mather passed away quietly, in his sleep, on Tuesday, March 7, 2008 at the Palms of Pasadena hospice.  He is survived by many who love him and who wish to express their deepest gratitude for his many years of dedication to their upbringing and general well-being.

posted by: willothwisp at 23:35 | link | comments |
family and friends

Check This Out

 I always check the gigs for writers because in my heart of hearts that's what I truly want to do (and teach of course - a nice balance of the two would be cool).  This is the first ad I come across, listed under the heading of "Rochester Marketing Person."

Reply to: Date: 2008-02-29, 5:09PM EST First off, I want to give you a link. The common theme amongst all my new accociates is the success stories is the fact that none of them have ever experienced anything like this before and that goes for me to. The small time is over for me as it is for you as well. Move over to my website now and give it a look email me now.

At first I am appalled.  OK, I can figure it out within a reasonable explanation, I think, but the essence of my angst is those folks who either can not or will not communicate effectively.  

After rereading, however, I like the optimism of "the small time is over for me as it is for you"

They need me to write for them so they might pay me large dollars to explain things real good in Americanese.

May we all enjoy great big times.

posted by: willothwisp at 18:31 | link | comments (1) |

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