Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn. ~ Elizabeth Lawrence

♥

Pine Needles

One side of my grandparents’ yard was a sloped grove of pine trees. When we were kids, my brothers and I would make elaborate mazes and forts out of the blankets of pine needles beneath the trees, digging and tunneling with our bare hands until the dark soil under them was exposed and we had created enough paths for a good game of chase in the shade. I never thought to take any pictures of our pine needle wonderland, but this favorite picture of Papa and Grandma shows some of the pine trees down the slope behind them.

And thanks to online mapping and its incredible “street view” feature, when I look up my grandparents' old address, I can see a bit of that same view from the opposite perspective, looking up the hill toward their house: The trees and their pine needle carpet and all of it in the shade that made it feel even more magical.

My grandmother died exactly five weeks after my grandfather, over Memorial Day weekend of 2001, and a week or so later, before the property changed hands and the new owners moved into the house, I made one last visit to my grandparents’ house with my then-boyfriend. After giving him an extensive walking tour of the mostly-empty house and yard, I asked him to lock the front door for me. While he did, I sat down on the brick steps of the front porch, breathing in those pine needles one last time, and fumbled around in my overalls’ pockets for a tissue that wasn’t already in wet shreds. Finding none I wiped my face on my his shoulder. “How do I leave?” I choked out. “How do I just leave now?” We never came up with any answer besides the obvious: You just do. You have to, so you do. What’s amazing, we decided that afternoon, isn’t that it ends and you find a way to go on, but instead that two people can love each other enough to create a home so good and so beautiful that their granddaughter would want to show it to one of her friends and tell him all about it.

Today after my run, I walked around my current neighborhood a little and stopped at a yard nearby with its own small patch of pine trees. And for the first time since that final visit to Papa and Grandma's house nine years ago, I bent down to separate a plush carpet of pine needles with my bare hands until a hole appeared. The neighbors, if they notice the hole at all, will likely suspect an animal had been digging there today, but they will never know how much that "animal" wanted to keep burrowing until an elaborate maze had been constructed in their yard. And call out to her brothers that it was ready and we could start the chase now. And laugh and shriek with them over every frantic slippery step that resulted in falling into a pile of pushed-aside pine needles. And look up every now and then, with pine needles and dirt in her hair, to wave to her grandparents as they smile down at her from the living room window.

As Old Friend and I headed toward the car to leave Papa and Grandma's house for the last time that day in 2001, I scooped up a handful of pine needles and a pine cone to keep at home with other treasures. Today before walking away from the neighbors' yard to walk home, I took only pictures. How do I leave? How do I just leave now? You just do. You take what you can and move on.

Finally Fall

A gorgeous and relaxing fall day here.  'Puttering around the apartment putting things into autumn mode, washing dishes, lighting the pumpkin-spice candle for the first time since winter, listening to Beth Orton's Trailer Park cd--her version of "I Wish I Never Saw the Sunshine" is beautiful and one of my favorite songs--wrapping little gifts for a start-of-kindergarten/Halloween-themed care package for my nephew and niece, and walking down to the store soon to buy extra ingredients to bake the fall's first batch of chocolate chip-pumpkin cookies. I know it's fall once the first tray of them comes out of the oven.  It's a sweet, sweet day. 

Vally

Our door buzzer rang awhile ago, and I ran out to the porch to find a big box from my mom on top of our mailbox. Every autumn, Mom mails me and Mike a care package filled with silk leaves and mini pumpkins and gourds, things we can use for supper (this time, a vegetable soup starter and a cornbread mix), tuna (my favorite lunch), hot chocolate packets, bags of microwave popcorn, and peanut butter-filled candy for Mike. Today's had all the usual treats, plus a little cooking magazine and a pretty card and basket, but the highlight to me was what is in the picture above: On one of the magazine clipping pumpkin pictures she had taped around our mailing addresses on the top of the box, Mom had written "Vally." It is what she's always called me, and it makes me miss her today even more than I already do. It seems impossible, but I've only seen my family once so far this year--in May for my birthday--and that's just not enough. When I get this next month's work schedule, I'll have to figure out time to make a trip home. 

The Heart of Compromise

Mike and I have a tradition of going out to breakfast over the weekend, and I had promised yesterday that we would eat out today and that I'd accompany him on a few of his errands--comic book shop, library, coffee shop--as well. But I woke up this morning and felt so. . .just not quite ready for it to be morning, I told him I didn't want to go today, after all, and we could go tomorrow. I work tonight and wanted to stay in bed and "bank" some extra sleep to carry me through the wee hours of the morning at work. "Oh, we can go tomorrow, but will we?!" he grumbled. "Or will you be too tired then too?" No, I assured him, sliding back under the covers, adding "I promise." He pointed out that I had promised about today too, and ooh! We were off to the races! A short but spirited exchange followed, and as he walked out the door to go to breakfast by himself, he reached back into bed to touch my hand and said "I love you." I said I loved him too, but by the time I heard the final click of his keys as they locked our door, my eyes were full of tears. Because he was right. I had promised. And I wouldn't like it if he did the same to me.

We have so little time together with my new work schedule, every meal together has become so much more important to us. Except today, clearly, when I chose to stay in bed, right? And while thinking about that in the first few seconds after he walked out this morning, I knew I was too worked-up to be able to fall back to sleep anyway and that I'd soon be joining him in our booth at Eat'n Park. I raced around the apartment getting ready and had to run a little to make it to the corner where he stood still waiting for the bus. We enjoyed breakfast together as always, and while he went on to run his errands, I walked home to take a pre-work nap. A small compromise, but big enough, and our day together is ending more nicely than it started.

Be Still, My Heart!

While looking for something online this morning, I came across a picture of a set of old playing cards with this unbelievably accurate drawing of me and Mike's dream home on one side.  It's a tiny maybe-one-story house! With a fishing pond! And ducks for Mike! And cats and dogs! Rounded window/frame above the door! Cobblestone path! An apple tree like the one in Great-Grandma's yard! A big old mailbox up on a pole! Shutters AND a window box! There are even Cattail plants edging the pond! A few years ago, Mike and I were emailing back and forth, and I sent him another one of my dream home pictures along with the following email:

Now, picture yourself on the (bigger-than-this) front porch in a comfy chair with a pillow behind you and your feet up, reading the newspaper to Stuffed--you underestimate him: he's probably quite interested --and looking up every now and then to watch Rowlf/Buster/Buckingham patrol the grounds. The scent of apple pie is wafting out to you from the kitchen, and the honeybees are (at a safe distance! and) buzzing around the flowers and their boxes. A better-than-water-beverage is at your feet. Our pet groundhog  is chasing squirrels. Your girl lounges beside you, happy happy happy....Can you dig it?

He wrote back "Let's make it happen." And bit by bit, one Craigslist-acquired-wing-chair and Daffodil-bulb-from-a-friend at a time, we are. I'll save the new picture-find for inspiration and take it as a sign that we're on track here. ♥

Mr. Dylan Starts Kindergarten

My nephew, who I still picture as the chubby baby who used to get a kick out of being repeatedly "attacked" by one of my stuffed sheepdog toys while he sat on my bed, giggling and surrounded by piles of my blankets and bed pillows, began kindergarten today. Kindergarten! My heart! My little "Mr. Dylan!" My older brother emailed me a photo of his boarding the bus, and as I looked at it, I joined countless other parents and family members who this week find themselves exclaiming "Kindergarten!? How is that possible!?"
 
Dylan's arrival was especially exciting for me since I'd been afraid I'd miss it: I was scheduled to move out of state soon for my graduate school internship and practicum and thought maybe he'd be late. Instead, he arrived two weeks early, and I, then his only aunt, quickly filled the blog I kept then with nephew-related photos and updates. It was such a happy time.

The day of his birth was only the second time I'd ever seen my older brother cry, was the first time I'd seen a woman so close to labor, was the day I got to see my own "baby" brother (in the ball cap below) become an uncle, and was the happiest I remember my brothers and I ever being for each other. The shot below captures us all in one of our sweetest moments together. It is one of my favorite family photos.

I took tons of pictures after Dylan was born, left the hospital to go back to my parents' house--my parents were now grandparents?!!--with my mom to make cupcakes for my family and for the maternity ward staff while she called family and friends to let them know Dylan had safely arrived, worked in my pink and white garden for a little while--and Dylan, the afternoon of your birth was a gorgeous one--and then went back to the hospital to drop off the cupcakes and visit my nephew and his parents some more. I remember saying to my mom how strange it was that we had all just "met" Dylan and just instantly loved him so much, and she said, "Well, of course," but it was surprising to me, the depth of this new love.

That first night, I gave Dylan his first present from me: A bib I'd ordered ahead of time that read "Aunt Val Loves Me." My older brother and my sister-in-law kept telling everyone, "Let Val hold him. She's moving soon and won't get to see him for awhile." The last time I held little Dylan before I moved for my internship, my mom watched and said, "You're trying to memorize his face," and it made me cry. She was right. And when I saw Dylan again months later, he looked completely different to me: Chubby and bundled up in a snowsuit, and he was shy around me and didn't want me to hold him. That was hard. I loved the little guy and was so tickled to see him again, and he didn't know me at all. In time, we bonded again, though, and he became my "Mr. Dylan!" and since he couldn't pronounce "Aunt Val," I became his "Annie Owl." Everyone would laugh and melt when he'd say that, and I wish no one had ever corrected him.

Today my "Mr. Dylan" started Kindergarten, then, and while I couldn't be there, he was on my mind all day. I hope that when his little "First Day of School" package from me reaches him, it finds him happy and having fun and making new friends. (My mom called while I was typing that line, actually, to report that he did indeed have a fun first day.)   I love you, Mr. Dylan, and even if I live far away and have to be your pen pal, I will remain, forever and always, your "Annie Owl." ♥

Croup Til Ya Droop

I didn't know that adults could get Croup until I came down with it last Tuesday. Stuffed here has the right idea.

Blue Flowers

So many yards around here have beautiful blue Hydrangeas in bloom right now. The flowers enchant me. The blue is just so striking, and anytime I see blue flowers I'm reminded of the final scene in 1994's version of Little Women, one of my favorite movies. Upon hearing that Professor Bhaer has stopped by the family home, Jo tears out of the house to run after him. Those final few minutes of the film are some of the sweetest in it, but the blue flowers all around the house and gate are equally beautiful.

Maybe because it has been so hot and humid here lately, that lush green and blue landscape looks especially inviting today. While trying to create some order in our impossibly cluttered little studio apartment this afternoon, I'll escape there in my mind's eye. 

One Fine Day

Today was my last day at my now-"old" job. At the end of my now-former workplace's daily staff meeting, the manager asked everyone, "Okay, anything else?" And a few people mentioned that it was my last day. The manager replied, "It is Val's last day. Great job, Val. Thank you for everything." And suddenly, everyone was clapping! Applauding me! It was such a sweet moment and so unexpected. I worked there two and a half years and saw so many people come and go but don't remember anyone else getting that simple recognition their last day on the job. As I told my managers when I stopped by their office suite to say goodbye a little while later, the applause was just the sweetest note to end on, and it meant so much to me. I choked up while saying as much, and then choked up again a few minutes later when I punched out for the very last time.

 And as I walked home, I sent Mr. Mike a text message letting him know I was done ("Done-done!"), and he, who had taken today as a vacation day so that we could go out and celebrate this milestone, wrote back "Yay!" and then surprised me by meeting me along my walk home. We took a picture together and went to lunch, and it was a wonderful meal and a great time.

Just knowing that this stage of my life is over and that I'm moving on finally. . . !   Thank You, thank You, thank You. ♥