A couple days late publishing this, but better late than never. On Sunday morning, we discovered this perfect web behind the driver’s seat of our car. We didn’t see it the day before so we think it was built overnight. I think it’s beautiful.
Scenes from the Day: 7/12/15
I woke up on Sunday ready to “exit the building,” so to speak. I didn’t leave our property most of the prior week, choosing to work on projects at home instead. On Saturday my husband took Polina out for the day to give me a break. After letting me sleep in, he left a note for me on the bathroom mirror stating, “The day is yours.”
What did I do? I cleaned the entire house. I mean the ENTIRE house. It took me almost five hours. From vacuuming to dusting to ironing (yes, ironing) to sweeping to cleaning to putting things away, that is how long it took. I am not counting the half hour I took to read a magazine that had been sitting underneath my coffee table since winter.
To be fair, part of that time was spent putting together a bird house that I bought in January that had been sitting on our dining room table. It’s a birdhouse with a one-way mirror that attaches to a window with suction cups. The idea is for birds to nest but not be disturbed by humans who want to observe them. I bought it with the intention of putting it up in the spring so Polina can see how nests are made. Spring came and went and the birdhouse became a part of the dining room table. Every day we sat at the table and ignored it.
I have to say that I do keep a clean home for the most part. I’m like my grandmother- I’m a cleaner. When I live in a messy home, I have anxiety. When I have anxiety, I clean. For some reason, I cleaned my home around this birdhouse. It finally got caught up in my cleaning frenzy and is now suctioned to our window.
So when Sunday rolled around, I felt an impetus to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. I have been wanting to go to a waterfront park in the city for a while now and decided today was the day. Even better, parking is free on Sundays. I called my friend David who I hadn’t seen in a while and told him I’d be in town.
The day started off cloudy but I could see a few sun breaks. I dressed Polina and myself conservatively in case it got cold by the water. By the time we got into town, I had taken off Polina’s long sleeved shirt and rolled up my jeans into shorts. It was only 71 degrees, but it felt like 90. I thought the beach would bring in a cool current. No dice. It was hot hot hot and little shade.
We got to a spot with some big rocks on it. Polina, in her prim dress that she picked out for the day, decided to do some climbing. I helped her up and she really enjoyed being on top of the rocks.
We took off our shoes to walk on the grass. I noticed a bee flying by the grass but didn’t pay attention to it since it was away from us. And then it happened- something that hasn’t happened to me in almost 35 years. I got stung by a bee between my toes. I knew it instantly, even though it hadn’t happened since the early 1980s. It hurt a LOT.
I sat down and removed the stinger. I worried how I would be able to walk back with Polina. Then I grit my teeth and put Polina’s and my shoes back on. From my memory, the last time I got stung by a bee, it hurt a while. This time, however, I was surprised that the pain abated fairly quickly, to the point where there was no pain when I began walking a few minutes later. I was relieved.
We headed back. It was hot and Polina insisted I carry her. When I met up with David, I was sweaty from carrying Polina.
“I’m au naturel today,” I told him.
“That’s why I like you,” he said. What a charmer.
We had a good time eating and catching up. I took a few pictures of him and Polina and he said he wanted to take a few pictures of me with my camera. I don’t consider myself photogenic. Ninety-nine percent of the time I don’t like the way I look in pictures. David didn’t put on his glasses, so he was squinting to see the image on the back of the camera. BUT, he took some really good photos of me and Polina, which made me really happy because there aren’t many pictures of me with Polina. I’m usually the one behind the camera.
On the way home, we stopped at a park downtown we hadn’t been to in a while. It used to be a hangout for homeless people. The city put in ping pong tables and a play area for children and the park has really turned around. A young woman began blowing some bubbles in the play area and the kids really enjoyed it.
It ended up being such a great day it made up for being cooked up in the house all week. Polina was so tired she zonked out in the car. It was a beautiful ending to a beautiful day.
6 Things I Miss About Being Single
Before I had my daughter, I was single with my husband. There were things we did together, like go to an Indian buffet on the weekends, and there were things that we did separately. I loved going to the theater and literary lectures by visiting authors. I hung out with co-workers or friends after work. I never had to ask anyone’s permission. I just told him where I’d be.
I knew that having a child would change things. I just couldn’t imagine how much. More
Why I’m Starting to Dislike Summer
Ahhh…. summertime. What could possibly be bad about Summer? No school, lots of free time, warm weather (which, in the Pacific Northwest, means something.)
Every summer I imagine taking trips with my daughter to places in the area we’ve never been to or rarely visit. I have images of us bonding together at the zoo, or at a spray park or the beach. Instead, for the second summer in a row, my dreams are bombarded by reality.
Last summer, we were first time homebuyers. We had a horrible experience, the details of which I will not expand upon here. Suffice it to say that we were working with real estate agents, bankers, contractors, and our own house with a two year old and no outside help. Last summer we mostly worked. I was happy when winter came and we could rest.
This summer, I bought Polina a bathing suit fully intending to go to a splash park. We didn’t go last summer and I thought for sure we’ll go this summer. We still have yet to put it on.
The tag is still on the suit.
Why, might you ask?
Because we’ve been working on the house. The last couple days I have been digging and pulling out blackberry bushes. They’re not really bushes. They’re vines at this point. Our house was vacant for four years (or so our neighbor tells us) so these massive vines have taken over our backyard fence and the leaves of one of our trees.
That’s right, the vines have grown as tall as the leaves our tree. As I was digging them out and in the process scratching my arms, wrists, and especially my hands, I remembered Michelangelo’s quote about chipping away at the stone to get to David, except I was hacking away at the bush to get to my tree.
I was also thinking why I never found gloves designed for working with thorny plants. I just figured I could make do with my rubber ones, the same ones I used to clean out the crawl space. I was so wrong. So wrong. My hands are still stinging.
And it was hot today- in the 80s. That’s friggin’ hot for out here. I used to be able to stand 100 degree days when I lived in Washington DC in my teens. I’m not into hot weather anymore. I don’t find the weather “glorious,” as one local radio announcer likes to say.
I was hot and sweaty and my arms were stinging. Periodically Polina informed me she had to go to the bathroom, or she was hungry, or she wanted to play ball or a game with me. Yes, I was killing a plant and raising a human.
And in the evening, when you just want to sit in your yard and savor your hard work, the mosquitos come out and buzz in your ears. Last night I had one land on my hand about to insert her little proboscis.
I don’t like the flies that come out in the summer. Even when I close the screen door, they still manage to come in. There was a house fly buzzing right now that landed on my computer screen. Twice.
The past couple weeks my husband has been working on Polina’s room replacing insulation and sheet rock. This weekend, he was mudding. When he wasn’t working I was in the crawl space removing the vapor barrier (which also needs replacing.) And then there’s the issue of painting the exterior. We still have primer on parts of our house. But with just the two of us, we’re prioritizing and insulation is more important than looks come winter.
I thought being a homeowner would be romantic. Instead, it’s downright dirty. Literally. We discovered last week that our septic pump wasn’t connected. Every piece of this house is needing repair.
So, what spray park? I still have another day ahead of me, possibly more, pulling out blackberries. If there was an invasion of a plant species this would be it. Sure they charm you with their blackberries. Then they kill you with their thorns.
What I did enjoy about today is that I was able to take a break from pulling blackberries to spend quality time with my daughter doing puzzles and playing games. Last year, I didn’t know how to take a break from work.
This summer, I’m doing a lot better accommodating her needs.
Maybe we will make it to the spray park after all.
What I Am Doing About Nature Deficit Disorder
There has been a lot of attention over the past decade to a phenomena labeled “nature deficit disorder.” It is the idea that children are spending less and less time outdoors, more and more time indoors interacting with electronic devices (hmmm….) and that this has implications for their emotional and physical health.
I tend to agree. I have been one that is attracted to the outdoors. For example, I love to camp. I don’t like not having access to a hot shower for five minutes in the morning, but some of the feelings I get after three days of camping (it takes me that long to “detox”) are purification, peace, connection with my surroundings, and understanding. Maybe one can get that in expensive hotel rooms with a spa, but I can’t afford that. Being in dirt is a great alternative in terms of results.
I used to work with an African-American woman who came to work each day as if dressed for a fashion show. She wore high heals, ornate earrings, and had long nails which she had manicured professionally weekly. She was also overweight, but didn’t seem to mind it. She flaunted her body. Every summer we had a barbecue for clients at the health clinic where we worked. It was held in a city park behind our building. We took turns barbecuing while taking care of needs back at the office. On one occasion where our times overlapped, I remember her looking around at the big trees and commenting, “This is nice.” She didn’t say this in an off-hand way, but like she meant it. Ms. Fashionista was moved and I realized that nature can touch all kinds of people.
More interestingly to me is the phenomena that people are not comfortable being around nature. I remember taking a walk in a park with another friend of mine through some Madrone trees. Madrone trees shed bark and I was pulling off some of them. The bark was very thin, like paper. Pulling on the bark was mildly therapeutic because it made me feel like I was releasing the tree from its harness to reveal more of the soft, beautiful bark underneath.
“Stop it,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
I don’t remember the precise reason she gave, but it made her very uncomfortable that I was interacting with nature in such a way. From my point of view, the tree was shedding bark anyway, so why not help it along? I offered her the bark in my hand, but she didn’t even want to touch it. And she is from Montana! Coming from a city that has more residents than the entire state of Montana, I thought people from big nature states were naturally close to nature. Befriending her made me realize that just because you live in a state that sounds synonymous with nature doesn’t mean you actually interact with it.
It is important to me that Polina grow up not only feeling comfortable around nature, but having her own relationship with it. I consider being in nature to be the absence of cars, people, buildings and electrical poles. It is vital to my soul. The experience of it resides in my imagination and it’s where I seek solace even when I am away from it. However, I am terrible when it comes to naming things in nature. I know a few plants, but I can’t distinguish a Douglas from a Fir tree, and I live in the Pacific Northwest. Naming it hasn’t been as important as feeling it. I live up in the clouds that way.
I know nothing about the soil, except that it needs water, maybe some lime and compost. I’ve never actually grown anything myself, but I have maintained established plants in my home for several years. That is one of the things I am working on as we work on our home. My mother grew tomatoes and lettuce on our balcony in the apartment we lived in. I didn’t take an interest then, preferring to eat the produce instead. But now, in middle age, I do have an interest.
The week before Memorial Day, Polina and I went camping in the same spot we went 20 months earlier. We had our time together and our time side by side, each enjoying nature in our own way. Except for a flip phone and an occasional internet check in at the local library, we were without electronic disturbances. Here are some pictures from the trip, along with some flashbacks.
