Last night my house was full of junk--it was piled high in the living room, covering all the furniture. Kitchen counters held preparations for breakfast and various other unidentifiable things--Jordan is nothing if not efficient. It wasn't the orderly house I'm used to and somehow it discommoded me, though long after everyone else went to bed I stayed up and worked. But I was well aware that I was tired, and I think it was from confusion. This morning, Jordan and Christian were up at five but quiet as mice. I never heard a thing and slept until 7:30 and woke up tired--maybe it was that falling barometric pressure again..
The garage sale was not nearly as painful as I feared--somehow I had visions of money-hungry people who would try to cheat the kids and stomp all over my property. None of that happened. Most people who came to look were friendly, cheerful, and polite--all things which Jordan and Christian are good at too. I wandered between my office and the porch--read the paper on the porch while watching the goings on, ate lunch out there, and sort of enjoyed the day. It was a perfect day--nice temperature, nice breeze, cloud cover.
Jacob was bored, so I took him with me to the grocery. When we drove up to Central Market, he said, "No, Juju . I don't want to go here. How about we go to WalMart?/" My classy grandson. He soon got bored at Central Market too--soothed a bit by a cake and two kiwi, which he swore he loves.
But when I found myself drinking wine at 2:30 on the porch with neighbor Jay, garage apt. dweller Elizabeth, Jordan and Christian, I realized I was still exhuasted and went to sleep. Kudos to my daughter because when I woke up my house was in perfect shape--you'd never know all that stuff had been here.
This evening friends had invited me to have dinner at the Stayton, the high-rise, upscale retirement community that they moved into a year ago. It's beyond nice--a compact but comfortable two-bedroom apartment, with such amenties as a huge walk-in closet, an efficient kitchen big enough to really cook in, a bathroom almost as big as the second bedroom. Their furniture fits well, and they are really happy there. Dinner was delicious--I had heard the food was outstanding, and it was--I had lamb chops, with creamed spinach and half of Margie's baked potato. Dining room, with white linen cloths, is on the 11th floor, with a spectacular fiew of downtown at night. The food was outdone only by the visit as we all three caught up on doings and talked dogs a lot--they brought theier two dogs with them to the apartment. Also at dinner, several retired TCU faculty came over to say hello. A pleasant evening. Am I ready to move in? Nope. At least not yet. I need space. I need to be able to open the back door and let the dog out. I need an accessible place for friends and family. But I can see many advantages and I'm happy that Margie and Jack are so well settled. Maybe someday.
The garage sale was not nearly as painful as I feared--somehow I had visions of money-hungry people who would try to cheat the kids and stomp all over my property. None of that happened. Most people who came to look were friendly, cheerful, and polite--all things which Jordan and Christian are good at too. I wandered between my office and the porch--read the paper on the porch while watching the goings on, ate lunch out there, and sort of enjoyed the day. It was a perfect day--nice temperature, nice breeze, cloud cover.
Jacob was bored, so I took him with me to the grocery. When we drove up to Central Market, he said, "No, Juju . I don't want to go here. How about we go to WalMart?/" My classy grandson. He soon got bored at Central Market too--soothed a bit by a cake and two kiwi, which he swore he loves.
But when I found myself drinking wine at 2:30 on the porch with neighbor Jay, garage apt. dweller Elizabeth, Jordan and Christian, I realized I was still exhuasted and went to sleep. Kudos to my daughter because when I woke up my house was in perfect shape--you'd never know all that stuff had been here.
This evening friends had invited me to have dinner at the Stayton, the high-rise, upscale retirement community that they moved into a year ago. It's beyond nice--a compact but comfortable two-bedroom apartment, with such amenties as a huge walk-in closet, an efficient kitchen big enough to really cook in, a bathroom almost as big as the second bedroom. Their furniture fits well, and they are really happy there. Dinner was delicious--I had heard the food was outstanding, and it was--I had lamb chops, with creamed spinach and half of Margie's baked potato. Dining room, with white linen cloths, is on the 11th floor, with a spectacular fiew of downtown at night. The food was outdone only by the visit as we all three caught up on doings and talked dogs a lot--they brought theier two dogs with them to the apartment. Also at dinner, several retired TCU faculty came over to say hello. A pleasant evening. Am I ready to move in? Nope. At least not yet. I need space. I need to be able to open the back door and let the dog out. I need an accessible place for friends and family. But I can see many advantages and I'm happy that Margie and Jack are so well settled. Maybe someday.
2 comments:
I love the idea of selling our big house and moving to a retirement village, but I don't love the idea of having a garage sale and/or auction and moving. And getting hubby to go along with the whole idea might not be so easy either. Maybe in time...
At this point, I fear I'm on hubby's side. And I too don't want to do the moving. But it's more than that. I don't think the life fits me. I need to open the back door and let my dog out, cook and entertain, and not live in such small quarters and close proximity to others. It may change on down the road, but for now that's where I am. But everyone has different tastes.
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