Get your own
 diary at DiaryLand.com! contact me older entries newest entry

2001-10-05

The countdown begins, or continues. Less than two weeks until we move. Less than three months until the baby--in all likelihood--makes his debut. Thirty-five more work days until my maternity leave begins. I keep track of it all in my day planner and in Excel spreadsheets. It makes it all feel neat, tidy, in a way that the physical reality of our house does not mirror. In other words, the house is a mess. It's entirely my fault, too. Ah, well.

Last weekend B and I went out to the house--there's a lockbox to which we have the combination, we can let ourselves in--to make flooring decisions. The seller agreed to replace the carpet and the vinyl and we got to make choices. We took the sample books so that we could look at them in situ, in the actual light and whatnot. Ultimately we decided to live with current vinyl and take the money allotted to replace it and use it to upgrade the carpet several notches. Since becoming an adult, I have lived entirely with wood floors so I'm no expert on wall-to-wall carpeting but I know that the cheap stuff looks like hell remarkably quickly. Of course, between three dogs and a baby (wasn't that a movie?) even the not-so-cheap stuff will probably look like hell soon enough. We'll see.

While we were at the house, we walked down to the lake and noticed people by one of the two houses that flank ours. We went and introduced ourselves to our neighbor, whom we both liked right away. She's around 60 probably, lives with her 85-year-old father. She has shoulder-length blond hair and a northern, possibly New York, accent. Very easy to talk to and she likes dogs.

The house on the other side of ours belongs to her daughter and son-in-law. We had heard that they were expecting a child so asked about this. Turns out the daughter miscarried; they intend to try again. I hope they are successful and our kid can have another kid right next door. A slightly younger kid he can push around. I also hope the daughter and son-in-law are as cool as the mother.

I don't love our current neighbors but some of them I like and I've been feeling a little wistful about leaving them. It would be kind of amazing if our new neighbors turn out to be friend material. B suggested that our choosing to live out in the woods gives us a bit of something in common with them right off the bat, though I'm not so sure. People have lots of different reasons, I imagine, for wanting to live in the middle of nowhere.

I'm growing larger, predictably. More ungainly (less gainly?). I don't mind too much. It's mildly alarming to see the scale climb steadily but also kind of exciting to observe my changing silhouette. Are my upper arms getting flabby, though? I think they are, though I can't remember for certain what they were like before and don't wish to subject anyone--least of all B--to questions on the topic.

A couple of weeks ago I lost a library book. I have checked out probably thousands of books over the twelve years I've lived in this so-so town with the fabulous library and this was a first, so unlike me. It dismayed me no end but I paid for the thing and put the receipt in a safe place. Then I found it, in the house, where I suspected all along it was. What a relief. A bigger relief: the town to which we're moving is in this same county so we'll still be entitled to borrow from this library.

Weekly library visits are a vivid and positive memory from my own childhood. I look forward to the days of bringing little what's-his-name to the kiddie room. I know boys tend to read less than girls, and I'm bracing myself for his being a non-reader. But I can hope.

previous - next

join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
email:
Powered by NotifyList.com