Two sides to every house.

There’s a battle in my home ~ all out warfare.  Since there are only two of us here it’s really more about will than might.  I am talking about the thermostat. 

Hubs is thin blooded.  For whatever reason, however it has happened, he gets cold easily.  He gets chilled.  Now, add to this that he also spent hours working on the pier in 30 degree water temperature, well, things tend to get nippy. 

I am not so much prone to being cold and although I don’t have hot flashes, I am usually warmer than hubs.  If I say “Wow, it’s a little cold in here” you can bet he will have on two sweatshirts and the blanket pulled up to his ears as he reclines for television viewing. 

This past weekend I stayed out in the woods on one side of the house working on trees and leaves while he was on the lake side of the house working on the boat, cleaning and polishing.  He also repaired the pier, while water lapped up and over the sides, soaking his shoes and pants, in a brisk northern wind.   He had promised to move a few piles of leaves for me when he was done with his list.  When he came driving the tractor around the corner of the house with his flannel-lined jacket’s hood cinched to a small circle around his face, I began kissing my list ta-ta.
   

Oh, we moved some leaves.  I had raked up a few piles, and I had removed some bigger maples which were lying in the path.  I had other trees marked that were a little bigger than what I could tackle on my own to take out.  Removal of those on this particular day?  Dismissed.  We had talked about cleaning up a tree limb that had fallen over the winter, raking a bit more in this area, staking out where the shed would go, discussing a parking area…I had a good list, to be sure, but manageable in the time left of this sunny day.  Now, I don’t know about you, but  I can read my husband’s face like a book.  He gets a certain look when he is not interested in discussing my plan, or helping me with a chore…even if it’s been previously agreed.  There may be an ever so faint grunt.  So, my list is again on the back burner and we called it a day.

That’s when the battle lines were drawn inside the house. As hubs begins to take off one layer, and only one, he announced how cold it is in the house.  I agreed it was chilly, but being in the lake will do that, especially on a windy day.  He tells me he can’t get warm.  I point out more blankets in the antique dresser below the TV, and go about making dinner, slightly annoyed.  No sympathy here, pal. 

Next morning, as my toes are toasting here at my desk, I see the thermostat is set higher than we typically set it during the winter, when it’s freezing, literally.  Moving it back down to a steady 68, I make a note that I am going to have to watch this guy like a hawk.  It's on. 

It takes a little mothering.

Spent a lot of time over the weekend planting and pondering.  Wondering what will grow there, what will look nice here.  I am changing my mind on what needs to happen at my bridge almost daily, and am even considering a pond of all things.   

My town has an Arbor Day tree give-away.  It’s really spectacular when you think about it.  Yes, the trees are tiny, just little saplings.  But, this commission, this group of people, want you to grow trees.  They offer trees for free, but accept donations, so that you can grow a tree or two.   I visited the event on Saturday and secured about 15 saplings, mostly dogwoods.  It will take a number of years before these little saplings produce anything close to a bloom. 

How exciting it is to plant a tree and watch it grow, bloom, shade.   They do require care, lots of water and, in my woods, keeping those dang maple trees, basswood and sassafras from wanting to choke them out.  I spent quite a bit of time pulling out maples and basswood over the weekend, forgetting to count as I tossed them in to a wheelbarrow.  Seems contradictory, doesn’t it? Planting trees while pulling trees out, muttering bad words under my breath? 

I kind of like it.  Ripping out those scraggly trees, those scrubs, those parasitic, sun grabbers, nutrient stealers…and clearing the way for a sweet sapling that, given nurturing and care, will grow and bloom.  I like walking the woods and checking on the new plantings every day.  Making sure they are getting what they need, inspecting each branch and leaf bud, checking for growth. 

Are these trees, these new saplings, satisfying a need to raise? To mother? Quite possibly…but that sounds a little bit like lunacy.  Don’t spread that around, okay? 

Would it be so bad?

All through my childhood my dad worked as a superintendent for a major bridge builder, American Bridge, Division of U.S. Steel.  Wherever a bridge was needed, particularly over water, we were there.  Living in mobile home parks and traveling the United States, job site to job site.  It was quite the childhood.  Never long enough in one place to make a “best friend”, and rarely around family, to enjoy first cousins, aunts, uncles. 

We were each other’s best friends…the only guests at each other’s birthday parties, with the exception of a bachelor my dad would drag home from time to time, or a young married man away from his family.  We knew nothing else, however, and it seemed fine to us.  At Christmas, there were just the five of us…Dad, Mom, my sister and my brother.  Occasionally we had my half-brothers, 10 and 12 years older than me, with us, too, but not every holiday. 

I think this is the reason I cherish family so much.  I want my kids to be close as can be, to each other and to us.  I want them to know cousins, aunts, uncles.  To have best friends that last a lifetime.  All the things I didn’t have, I want for them.  Please understand, I didn’t believe I was missing anything! I am not sure I did, it was just not structured the same. I wouldn’t trade it for anything really, and I have written of my childhood before…it was fantastic, full of adventure.

I love to hear that my kids are planning travel.  To see some sights, or experience something new.  Problem is, I want to go, too.  I am jealous of their planning and don’t seem to grasp the idea they may want to do this vacation on their own.  I tremble at the idea of the grandkids having some sort of fun I won’t witness.  I believe myself to be a vital part of the fun the vacation can be.  Oh, I am so reluctant to be left out.  I want them to go and do, just not without me. 

I want to live in a family compound of sorts ~ a commune.   I want everyone to have their own homes, but I want to have communal groceries and dinners.  Oh, you could have a meal on your own, but, wouldn’t it save money in the long run if we were living as extended families and sharing meals, utensils, groceries? Tribal living.  Yes! I want to be a tribe. 

This must be rooted in my childhood, right?

I need therapy. 

Only here.

You may be wondering how Camp GiGi went ~ it was fantastic.  I had the time of my life and although I am not going to bore you with a bunch of tidbits on how adorable my grandkids are, because I know yours are, too, I will share a couple reflections.

I was so looking forward to the week with these kids.  I had plans that didn’t happen, days went much quicker than I thought they would and the weather did not cooperate.  However, they were here, they were sweet as could be, they loved being together.  Kids can find their own fun if you give them the tools.  Six year olds quickly become bored, but that's when they'll talk.  When all else fails, there’s bathtime.
 
Besides the weather, I was sick.  Hit hard with this dumb respiratory thing that is going around that lasts forever, I napped when the three year olds did and was just about toast at the end of the day.  I had joked with hubs that Camp GiGi would become Camp GiGiPaPa when he got home.  He stepped in every night with an activity he planned all on his own. Now, I think this was to steal some thunder from Camp GiGi but it could not have been more welcome no matter the motivation.  He was a sight for weary eyes each evening when he came in with his “plan” while I made dinner.  Thank you, hubs!

But, here’s the real deal.  I wanted to find a way to solidify their time here.  To make it special and plant it a strong memory.  Something they do here, and only here.

Hubs and I often walk down to the lake when he first gets home,  sit in a swing at the end of the day, when weather allows, glass of wine in hand.  We don’t have a schedule or a “must do” for this time of reflection but it is where we have decided on a few matters of importance and most specifically, to not forget how blessed we are to be here.  That many would trade their location for ours; that it was a great place to raise our family and even though there has been some wild property tax finaglings over the last 10 years, we would not let it become a big negative but somehow, ride it out.  Ride it out we have and now it’s a great place to share with our grandkids.

So at night, when the weather allowed, we walked down to the lake with the grandkids to say goodbye to the day.  To reflect on how wonderful it was to be together.  To plan for the next day.  To listen to birds and watch the lake darken with the setting sun.  The week was blessed with a full moon so on the last night, it was bright and shiny, and lit up their little faces as they gazed out over the water and answered questions, asked questions. 

Our youngest visitor, who just turned 3, is not a big talker.  He’s like his dad and tends to listen, to soak things in.  He and I were the last two returning to the house on this last evening.   I said “Hey, look at that moon! Good night, moon!” His sweet little voice carried me through the yard in joy as he recited the ending of one of his favorite stories, read to him countless times by his sweet mama and daddy “Goodnight  moon, goodnight stars…”

He may not remember, but I will.