Tonight

Tonight, we ate yummy burritos on fresh tortillas (cooked though not made by me... thank you Costco) with ripe juicy tomatoes from our local farmers' market (where Van was not only called "she" but "pretty princess").

Then GK loaded the dishwasher (something we've never had before) and tidied up in record time because of it.

Then we tucked our little turkey into his crib (he's been in a pack n' play in various locations for two months now), in his very own room (not a creepy long storage room that also holds our bikes and surfboards).

Then we sat in front of the fire and ate some pumpkin bread from Trader Joes, and we said to each other "I hope we never forget what luxury is."

Yee Haw!

We found a place in Sacramento (technically Davis). We all felt like celebrating.

To Come

When we moved from Brooklyn to insert current state. We weren't exactly sure how long it would be for.

We have been homeless before (though never with a toddler) and we're pretty sure we will be again some day, so we weren't really concerned about that part of things. We just felt, in spite of our deep love for it and its folks, that it was time to leave Brooklyn.

Not knowing what was to come.

But our experience in the past has been that things work themselves out. And once again, at a time when jobs seem scarce and lots of people are searching, GK found the one. He'll be working as a Rep for Macmillan Publishing in Sacramento.

So this week we'll head up there and see if we can find us an apartment with some windows in it. Start booking your tickets folks because we can guarantee that this place will have a spot in it for you.

September, I'll remember

A love once new has now grown old.

When I was a little girl, my mom was pretty good about having us write in our journals. Usually on Sunday we'd lie around on the trampoline and write about our week, once we were old enough to do our own writing (and drawing). Before we could, she would write while we dicatated.

It started a sort of a habit for me. A compulsion during some periods of my life, and at others a nagging feeling in the back of my brain for not doing it. That's kind of where I am now.

In the old days I had no shame in an entry that looked like this:



Jan. 5, 1989


Wow! A lot has happened since I last wrote.



End of entry.


And now, so much has happened since I last blogged that I'm not sure where to start. So here's a list for now. Each of these could be a post of their own.


-Van and I flew to Utah from Brooklyn on the the world's longest, screamiest flight (sorry everyone, especially Van)

-We hung out with my family for a bit (including lots of dinners with my Grandma) waiting for GK to drive the enormous truck hauling a car across the country- alone

-We went to Jackson Hole to cheer on my dad, sister and three brothers in Lotoja (206 mile bike ride from Logan to Jackson Hole. Amazing!)

-Walking down the streets of Jackson, Van threw himself off of GK's shoulders onto the cement landing smack on his head (scariest moment of my life, followed by an afternoon in the ER and a miracle-- no bump, no bruise, no scratch)

-We drove to California for a fun filled week at the beach with GK's family

-We flew back to Utah for my Grandma's funeral

-Now we're back in California waiting to hear if all of GK's job interviews have paid off, because if Van plans on being such a dare devil, we need health coverage.

Blue

This morning, to battle the blues that have chased me through the week, I woke up and decided to take Van and Reggie for a jog. Reggie doesn't have very long legs, so he does our warm up walk with us and then he lounges in the basket underneath the stroller for the run.

I used to jog several times a week in Prospect Park. The outer loop is just over three miles, and when pushing a stroller with a severe righthand veer, it's a good workout.

I've been slow to pick up the tradition here for a couple of reasons:

One, Utah is high! My dad's new license plate says "Life Elevated" and it's the truth. My little sea level lungs are taking a while to catch up.

Two, I didn't know where to go. I could run along the sidewalk and end up at a stripmall or a gas station or the freeway.

Then I thought of it--- Wheeler Farm!

I grew up playing in the wild woods at Wheeler Farm, sneaking into the hay loft (I think somewhere in there is one of my mom's electric blankets that my friend Melissa and I ditched when the farmer chased us out), visiting the little store, seeing the animals.

This was the first visit in years, and the first ever with my own little Van. It was so incredible to look at it all from his huge, curious, excitable eyes. He pointed at each animal, and giggled as the baby calf came close enough to the fence for us to feel his breath.

Be gone blues, we've got things to do.

Tonight

After putting Van down to sleep I turned on the TV to fill the silence.

I watched the last three minutes of "Raising Helen". Now, I can scoff at a silly chick flick with the best of them (or watch the same one five times in one weekend). But tonight as I watched them walk down the boardwalk by the Hudson River, I got all choked up.

I cried a little as I thought of the last week we spent together as a family in New York. I find that most of my stories and sentences these days start with, "In New York..." It's got to get a little old to those listening, but I can't help it.

I miss my city.

I miss my friends.

I miss my park.

I miss my sweet husband.

I miss my dungeon. I never thought I'd say that, but I do.

For Dada

We miss you. Pack fast and come soon. Things around here are changing.