I'm sitting here, in my grandparents' former house, looking out the window, watch the bats swooping and reeling outside in the night air. I'm feeling a bit reflective tonight, a state I seem to be permanently stuck in every since that For Sale sign went up in our yard. Those bats outside remind me of how much swooping and reeling my own mind has been doing this past week. For every bug a bat catches, I suspect there are thrice that many mental bugs flying around in my thoughts. One the one hand, it's vacation time and I ought to be soaking up all this gorgeous sun. On the other hand, every moment I'm at home I'm filling up boxes and trying to predict whether or not we'll need something over the course of the next year.
It isn't as though we've sold our house; we haven't even had any phone calls of interest. No, our packing isn't of the frantic, completely chaotic state. Our packing is methodical. Planned. Plenty of time to think about each and every object that goes into a box; plenty of time to wonder at which point, after which box, when which particular item is packed away becomes the tipping point. The point when our house will stop feeling like our home and more like a place that we're just living in until we finally have nothing left to keep us there.
Quite honestly, my mind is exhausted by it all. Though I have plenty more to write about this whole adventure of moving, I just can't right now.
The good news is I've had some breaks from our house over the course of this last week. Jason's parents are in Kauai, so Jason is running his dad's coffee shop until they get back. I admit that I'm just the tiniest bit bitter that I'm losing Jason to two weeks of 12-hour work days, when this is the time we should be getting to see him the most. But Jason's dad needs a vacation too, and there's no one else who can help him out except Jason. So, it's just something that has to be done.
Getting back to how this is giving me a break...we have been staying up in Washington at the Family Farm. It's usually not easier to be living away from home with the girls, but in this case--where we have a vacant house to live in without worrying about inconveniencing others--it's been good. I'm not distracted by things to pack away. I'm not worrying about messes the girls make. It took me a good long day to shake off that frantic feeling of "What Do I Need to Do Now?" I got there though, with a great deal of thanks going to the trusty farm golf cart.
Although you might think we'd be better off just walking everywhere instead of being so lazy as to require a golf cart to get around, you'd be grossly misunderstanding the real purpose of the cart: it provides endless amounts of entertainment for just about everyone. Including the dogs, but especially the kids. Certainly, the golf cart is nice in that I don't need to carry any children in my arms. Moreover, it's good for speeding up and down the hills, checking on mole traps, and overall just zipping around and seeing who's doing what.
Every day last week, I rode around on that blessed little cart, and the girls were always thoroughly entertained. We'd get in it in the morning, and over the course of a few hours make several important stops.
Almost daily we strip the bushes of ripe raspberries, but then, miracle of miracles, there are more the next day.
Only a few days until these delicious little blue babies are ready to eat.
Jules is crazy about eating pea pods. We pull up a plant, and she and I snack on the pods all morning long. There is something particularly endearing--and almost miraculous--about little kids eating vegetables, don't you think?
Sydney hasn't quite mastered the "spit the pit" trick, but she's working on it. So far her distance record is about 6". By the end of the week, let's hope she gets to at least 12".
And here's where we just sit and gaze at the grass that will someday be the spot where our house will go.
Between all the fresh farm produce, we stop at my parents' house to get some of my grandma's chocolate chip cookies, check on the ducks down at the pond, play in the sand, jump on the trampoline, and wander through the woods. Eventually Jules falls asleep on the golf cart, and then Sydney and I head inside to spend a bit of time playing.
Then eventually...it's back on the golf cart for an afternoon spent outdoors, where somehow everything just seems a lot easier. No piles of laundry to worry about. No whining or pulling hair. No stress.
One more week here at the farm before going back home for a longer spell, and then, well...at some point we're back up here. For good. And though I have lots of emotional bugs flying around in my head that will no doubt remain there for many months, one thing is for sure: whether we need cherries or just a distraction from the house, the sweet little golf cart will always swoop us around to where we need to go.
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