It’s been so long since we updated. City life has been busy and strange. But now it’s Thanksgiving and we’re turning out attention to more important things…
It’s been weirdly warm, but the Stegelburg leaves are slowly changing. This is the best time—when the trees are still full and the grass is still green, but there are great, golden patches of crunchy leaves and everything smells like autumn and wet earth.
The house, with our new “tenants” feeling more settled in, has finally completely given up its damp, cottage smell. Everything feels warm and lived-in again. And, while at first there was a sense of “who are these people in my house” (what territorial creatures we are), now it just feels like being home with family.
C has been assembling our concrete pad (for the genny). It’s been tricky—this is his very first one—but despite a few detours, things are looking good. I’m always so proud of the way he’s determined to figure things out for himself; he knows he can do it and he does.
R and I started going through the books in the den and living room. We are sorting out the old, beautiful, or interesting ones, and putting the rest in boxes for donation. We found some interesting ones among mom’s collection of religious/devotional volumes, along with an old elementary-school exercise book mom had kept for recording daily events. It was strange to feel so close to her while realizing how much of her internal life was unknown to me.
This experience, of sorting through the artefacts of our family history, is often conflicting. Joy and melancholy are two sides of the same coin. Sometimes it feels too hard, but I don’t know I’d want it any other way.
In less emotional news, we stopped at a home reno store closing-out sale yesterday and, after months of looking and pricing, we stumbled upon a marvelous bargain on a new kitchen faucet (much needed since long before we took over). It’s the high-arc style I like and, with a list price of $280, the $100 we paid was too good to pass up. Aesthetically, I think it’s perfect, but we have such little experience with these sorts of things, I have to wonder if our choices are mechanically sound. Ah well, we’ll sort it out eventually. And for now, it’s not like we have six kids in the house; our things aren’t roughly used.
In very happy news (for me) I baked four pies in my very own oven yesterday. That is a thing that’s never happened before and, although I will spend a part of today scraping away some burnt sugar, it was an immensely satisfying activity. OUR oven, OUR house, OUR unfolding adventure.