meanwhile...

205 Days

2012-03-11T16:15:00.004-04:00

I find it comforting to know that in spite of the fact that it has been more than six months since my last post on this blog, it is still here.

Although, it turns out it is just as difficult to decide what to say after a long time as it is to know what to say every single day.

We've been back in Massachusetts for long enough to know some things. Like that the house seems both the same and different than before, probably because we are both the same and different than before and also probably because the paint on the walls in every single room is new.

This time last week I was on a flight from Chicago to Boston returning from AWP's 2012 annual conference. At the conference, one of the panels I attended was called "Barefoot, Pregnant, and at the Writing Desk" and even though I have been to so many panels and had so many conversations about the challenges of balancing mothering and writing, it is always nice to be surrounded by people striving for the same thing. There were two things said that morning that are useful for me to remember, and be reminded of repeatedly, one is that I have to chose writing again and again and every day, and the other is that life - especially life with children - is constantly changing, which is one of the things that makes finding balance an ongoing challenge. There is no such thing as lasting perfect balance.

I almost always return from AWP feeling inspired and energized, and I was, but then somehow this past week became the kind of one-thing-after-another week in which writing gets bumped down the to-do list again and again, and so today I'm trying to remind myself that not all weeks are like that.

Home at last.

2011-08-19T19:17:00.002-04:00

Even for me, three months is a long time. And so much has happened! We've returned to our home in Pittsfield where we have been very busy cleaning and painting and unpacking, although we've found time for friends and family and swimming as well.

Our little house is just as I remembered it, with a few updates and despite being in awful shape when we first got here, is looking quite well thanks to the generous help of old friends and family members who rallied round and chipped in over the past few weeks. I've never painted every room in a house before, and despite it being a small house, my painting arm sure did get sore! I'll post some photos of the homecoming and tell you all a bit more about the journey (adventure! fun times!) and how I broke the camera at Niagara Falls because I didn't listen to Steve.

And if I owe you a phone call or a message - I will be in touch soon, I promise.

xxoo

N

Pretty, Pretty, Pretty, Pillow

2011-05-07T19:43:00.000-04:00

Matilda has her final violin recital tomorrow, after which - according to her - she will never play the violin again. In honor of this recital being a once-in-a-lifetime event, she and I went dress shopping last Thursday after school. This is the result:

There were a number of contenders for Best Dress, including several with Spring-ish flowers and bright colors that brought out her eyes, but this one won due to its superior twirling skillz.

Matilda demonstrated the twirling while I attempted to account for the slight lag in shutter speed and snap the photo when she was facing me. Then she got dizzy and called an end to the photo shoot.

After heading back inside, I attempted to take Freya's picture. As a result of the latest if-my-sister-does-it-then-I-do-the-opposite, this was the best shot I could get:

Oh, the Freckles!

2011-05-04T17:51:00.000-04:00

Nine years old and all grown up, well, not quite I suppose. While I was taking this picture, Freya, who is also getting big (but has less teeth than usual lately, a lot less), was reading an American Girl mystery novel before school. She can't put it down! Of course her teacher is still sending home books with about eight words per page, but that's a battle I stopped fighting months ago. Freya refused to let me take a picture of her, but here's one of her tea party with her BFF Maggie a few weeks ago. Not sure if you can see them properly, but those are tiny cheese and olive sandwiches on the little plates.

This weekend Matilda has her final violin recital. And then, she says, she will never play again. This is why I am so proud of her: in spite of being completely done with the violin and never wanting to play it ever again, she still practices half an hour on school nights and an hour each on Saturday and Sunday. I like to think that the lesson being taught here is something more than you-have-to-do-things-you-don't-want-to-even-when-you-think-they-suck, but who knows? I have a feeling this might be one of those things for which the returns are subtle and known only through something else, years from now, if ever. She's thinking about taking up the piano when we move back to the Berkshires, and even if she has learned nothing else, she can now read music.

The weather turned sunny and breezy and warm here today - summer is coming. The girls only have about four weeks left of school and they're counting down the days. At TMR things are winding down for the semester; I wrote two posts for the TMR blog in the last week and you can find them here and here, if you're interested. The second one is about some artwork that Fionn did for the magazine launch party and the first is about how some pieces of writing just need to take longer than others.

I'll leave you with the new image drawn to accompany the online anthology by Sean, who has also agreed to help me with a redesign for this blog - coming soon...

Swing and Other News

2011-04-11T15:37:00.001-04:00

I did not get a single thing on my to-do list done yesterday and yet it was one of the most productive and relaxing Sundays I've had in ages.

After a trip to Home Depot, Steve fashioned this:

(the swing, not the girl; the girl we had already fashioned)

while I planted these:

and then we taught her:

how to ride her bike without training wheels.

I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that all of these things are good omens for the summer full of changes that is right around the corner.

Fashionista: Matilda for One Year

2011-04-01T07:00:00.012-04:00

Memory in general is flexible, and mine in particular is terrible. I swear if it wasn't for this blog I would have only the sketchiest recollection of my daughters' early childhoods, and even then I can't promise that I didn't "embellish" some of the more exciting adventures of the past few years. (I'm a fiction writer, it's not something I can - or would really want to - control.)

As far as I can remember the evolution of my own fashion sense went something like this:

Phase one, around when I started dressing myself: any and all combinations of patterns - plaids, stripes, polka dots, you name it.
Phase two, most of the rest of my childhood: things get a little vague here, I remember specific articles of clothing rather than any one general "look" - my Chuck E. Cheese t-shirt, striped pajamas, and a matching top and bottom outfit with fuchsia and orange stripes.
Phase three, the early awkward teenage years: plaid shirts, baggy blue jeans, turtlenecks. I remember in ninth grade being aware that the other girls had clothes from Gap and Express, but not really knowing what that meant, and despite a vague desire to be more like them (yes, even the hair-sprayed bangs), not caring enough to investigate further.
Phase four and five, the later teenage years (this one is two phases because more than any other time I feel like one led directly to the next): Manic Panic hair (pick a color, any color) and Converse with tie-dyed shirts, cutoff shorts, jeans with holes in them and possibly a few patches became Manic Panic and Converse with wild patterned tights (argyle, plaid, stars, the crazier the better) and super short mini skirts.
Phase six, the rest: jeans, sweaters, t-shirts, hoodies, black boots, sneakers, lots of black and blue and brown - pretty standard (read boring) stuff. Comfortable. Functional.

Given this unexciting history, including the late start to my teenage experimental phase, imagine my surprise when Matilda began to transform herself into a miniature fashion plate. The girl cares about fashion, and she pretty damn good at it. Every morning she composes her outfit for the day, often including accessories like a thin scarf tied around her neck and a pageboy cap or headband. Everything is color-coordinated in a subtle, but skillful way that would have made my nine-year-old self wrinkle up her nose and say, huh?

My favorite part about Matilda's newfound fashion sense is that it's all her. I mean, sure she lives in the world and has seen a bit of the good the bad and the hideous when it comes to fashion, but, as I'm sure you can tell by my current "look," I don't exactly follow the latest trends. And the best part is she's not pulling her look from the Disney channel or whatever tween magazines the kids are reading these days.

Because I want to remember this properly, Matilda has agreed to work with me on a project. Beginning on her ninth birthday (today!), I will take her picture every morning for a full year. I will post the pictures daily at yearofmatilda.tumblr.com. Since she is only nine, the blog will be password protected, but please email me at nell.meanwhile [at] gmail.com if you'd like to follow Matilda's fashion evolution over the course of the coming year. It should be good one, she's finishing up third grade, gearing up to move back to her native Berkshires for a joyous reunion with her once and always BFF Aurora and start fourth grade at a new/old school in the fall, and who knows what other adventures might be ahead! Follow our blog and find out - it's going to be fun year.

Spring, Birthdays, Babies and Moving Home

2011-03-23T12:03:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting in the living room of my friend Claire's house. It's welcoming here: not too neat, a well-used kitchen, bright baby paraphernalia scattered throughout. Claire's daughter Olive is fast asleep after a walk to the Columbia Public Library (possibly the best library I've ever been lucky enough to live near). The weather has been perfect for the last few days and I'm beginning to feel excited about the next few months and then the move back to the Berkshires at the end of July.

I repainted one bookshelf and a small chest of drawers last weekend and am planning to do the kitchen chairs next. Spring! Projects! Imagining our furniture back in our old house! I remember when we moved into our house the first time how much fun it was to know that I could paint and decorate and change things however I wanted. I'm looking forward to that freedom again, even though I know it comes with having to fix things when they're broken, too.

Matilda is so excited about moving home, although her focus at the moment is on her upcoming birthday and the celebration she's planning with her friends. We're going to throw an indoor beach party with leis and pina coladas, bathing suits and flip flops. Not sure how this is all going to work just yet, but it'll be fun.

snow days are to children as _____ are to zombies

2011-02-01T17:57:00.014-05:00

As predicted, the blizzard has arrived.

It's on some kind of vindictive rampage across Missouri as if to show us just how unprepared Columbia is for, well, any weather at all really. By 2pm we'd already played Barbies, watched TV and gone outside (the girls), packed for DC and made chocolate chip cookies (me) and reached the "now what?" stage of the snowstorm.

The girls and I decided on a photo shoot to pass the time. After I did their makeup (complete with freckles for Freya at her request), they raided my jewelry box and decked themselves out in their best finery while I found working batteries for the camera.

We found a spot in Freya's room that was not too dark and got down to it.

But what began innocently (and sweetly) enough

soon became exceedingly silly,

and then things turned gleefully violent

and eventually ended, naturally enough, in a zombie attack.

once more

2011-01-15T12:25:00.007-05:00

Every time I say I will post more often I make myself a liar. So I won't this time, but I would, if, you know, I hadn't already done it so many times.

We drove from Columbia, Missouri to Lee, Massachusetts and back a couple of weeks ago for Christmas and New Year's. We saw family, and celebrated and relaxed. We took the train to New York City and went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (and brought Aurora) where we saw a fraction of the things we would have liked to see.

In a little over a week, the project that I've spent months working on for The Missouri Review will go live. Sean has done some amazing artwork for the project and I'm really excited about it.

I'm also starting to get excited about moving us all back to the Berkshires where we belong. I've started viewing all of our belongings with a critical, detached glance - is this chair worth moving halfway across the country? Again? There will be a tag sale of epic proportions this spring. I'm not sure the girls realize just yet quite how epic it will be, but they will.

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours with 4-month-old Olive, the daughter of my friend Claire, who I will be watching a couple of mornings a week this semester. She is adorable and small and not a fan of me, mostly because I am not her mother and she saw no reason why she should have to put up with me when she already has a perfectly nice family without me in it. She made this as clear as possible by screaming as loud and long as her little lungs could manage. She'll get used to me; we'll have adventures.

The novel is still in progress, but there is progress, which feels good. I've started working on it in chunks, out of order, which seems productive.

Even though Columbia still doesn't feel like home, we're making it work and for the next six months or so (yes, I have started a countdown) we'll be here and happy and busy.

Other things of possible interest:

TMR anthology project (will launch January 24)
first and second post on TMR's blog about working on the project
just for fun post about Castle, the TV show and the author

and such

2010-10-06T20:41:00.004-04:00

In a few minutes, I will go and give a friend a ride home because his car's been in the shop for nearly two weeks. Matilda and Freya are downstairs playing dominoes and black jack with Steve. I finally finished matching socks with other socks and putting away an enormous heap of clean laundry. My bed is smooth and brown and clear of undergarments, small and large.

School is going better for Matilda; she's going in early twice a week to meet with a teacher and three other students, getting extra help with her math. She'll be fine this way; this is all she needs. Freya wrote a note this morning with her name, my name, my cell number and email. She gave the note to her friend Maggie so Maggie's mother can call me and they can play on the weekend. When she's not being evil, she's so darn easy. I say this now. The evil is fleeting and I use the term very, very broadly: she was nearly impossible to get out of bed this morning. I carried her downstairs like a dead body, slinging her into her chair at the table and ordering her, in clear, concise words, to pull herself together and eat her breakfast, then march - march - upstairs and do all the other things she needs to do so we can all file out the door by 8:25 and I can drive them all to where they need to be for the day.

I've been indulging lately in some less-than-academic reading: "chick-lit," pulpy mysteries, and such. And I have to say, while I do appreciate exquisitely crafted prose, and a really stunning character piece, this "genre" fiction really is ever so much fun. Also, it's not un-instructive. I mean, the novel I'm working on definitely isn't going to be the next Ulysses, and with that in mind, I do think I'd like it to be fun.

a brief updatey post

2010-09-23T12:09:00.004-04:00

Just thought I ought to write a little something and keep you up on how the McCabe/Root clan are doing way out here in the middle of nowhere (since, sigh, I have to just accept that this is now more or less the main, albeit sporadic, purpose of this site).

We're good. Did you know that there are many, many insects and spiders in Missouri? And furthermore did you know that apparently our last residence was much better at keeping them outside the human living area? Well, it's true. The home that will host Matilda's Year of Living the Suburban Dream, is also host to a host of small critters, most of which are fine, no problem, whatever, but a few of which are no friends of mine. Oh well. So there's that.

We went camping overnight a few weeks ago at Lake of the Ozarks state park. I think my expectations were just too high, because while the Lake of the Ozarks is very nice, it is just that"nice" and anyone who has known me for long enough knows that being "nice" is really not much of an accomplishment in my book. but we did have a pretty good time, even when you count the various ailments of the first day and the emergency underpants trip to Target that became necessary earlier than one might have thought it could. (Any guesses who needed emergency underpants? Yes, you're right.)

I've been feeling a bit inadequate lately for not being in a PhD program (I attribute this mainly to the fact that I spend most of my time surrounded by people who either have, or will shortly have, a PhD), but the year is off to a good start. I am writing (actually working on the novel, not just thinking about working on the novel) and I really love being on staff at The Missouri Review where I am working on a very fun project that I will tell you all about soon.

(Other post coming soon(ish): To PhD or not to PhD...)

Steve is well, cooking for his frat boys and occasionally for us when I manage to persuade (or guilt) him into it. Matilda just started taking violin lessons through the Missouri String Project and is in a very small (3 students!) class twice a week. Freya is adamant that she is planning to be an Olympic gymnast and is going to start taking dance classes on Mondays until she is 6 and can join one of the local gymnastic classes instead. She is still trouble, but most of the time is pretty good. Matilda, on the other hand is so good that she has been selected as one of the two hall monitors for her class. Is it wrong that this makes me more uncomfortable than Freya's often eerily accurate insights into criminal thought?

In any case, things are good, better things are in the works, and I will tell you more soon. Oh! I almost forgot: I recently wrote about rereading From the Mixed Up Tales of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler with the girls on The Missouri Review blog.

Matilda's Year of Living the Suburban American Dream: Part One

2010-08-10T10:59:00.003-04:00

Except for a few hours of sleep each night, this is more or less the first time I have sat down since 7am Saturday morning when we started moving boxes out the door and down the stairs in preparation for the moving truck at 8. Say what you will about mid-Missouri (and believe me, I do), but I have fantastic friends who toiled for hours in 80-90 degree heat to help Steve and the girls and I move all of our worldly possessions across town.

The new place is nice, not from the outside perhaps, where the gray board siding matches the other houses on our little street exactly, but inside we've got three bedrooms, a fireplace, a garage and kitchen with actual counter space. This marks the first time in their young lives that Matilda and Freya have had separate bedrooms. And for Matilda, my 8-going-on-15-year-old, also her own bathroom. Crazy, I know. We didn't even realize that one of the bedrooms had a private bath until we got our keys Friday evening, and we could have taken that room, but the one down the hall was a little bigger and I kind of like having enough room to walk between my desk and my bed without tripping over the chair.

So Matilda has her own room, which she immediately organized and arranged just so, and her own bathroom. Also, we are within safe (no big streets to cross) walking distance from her best friend here in Missouri, and about half a dozen of her other classmates. We are at the end of a short dead end road which is pretty much perfect for riding bikes and if you walk to the end of our road, then take a left, that road deadends at a town park. I have officially declared the year that we will be living here Matilda's Year of Living the Suburban American Dream. I'll keep you posted on all the dreaming developments as they occur. Or, at the rate I've been going, a few weeks after they occur.

First Lost Tooth

2010-07-13T15:21:00.001-04:00

fireworks

2010-07-05T11:04:00.004-04:00

Watching the fireworks from the roof of a parking garage last night with my family:

Me: You know what I want? A bottle of red wine, a loaf of French bread and a big chunk of cheese.

Matilda: Yeah, because you're Nell McCabe.

Does the kid know her mother, or what?

breakfast

2010-07-01T10:08:00.002-04:00

adjusting

2010-06-29T12:44:00.004-04:00

I've been cranky with the girls lately. A lot. I have some theories about this and they involve summer vacation and heat indexes in the low hundreds, but also, mostly, they involve no longer having a thesis to obsess over and freak out about. When you have no choice but to firmly tell yourself that the messy house and unruly children must be carefully blocked out for the sake of the very important work you must do, it's a lot easier to ignore the fact that your house is a perpetual disaster and your children are whining and fighting over the same stupid things every half hour. Or, put another way, a lack of very important work to do leaves me with a lot more time to be irritated with how quickly a formerly-clean apartment becomes messy and how often my children bicker.

Apparently I need structure. You would think years of homeschooling and self-motivated projects of various kinds that sometimes even get finished (both children have quilts, our house had curtains, things have been painted, short stories have been written) would mean that I could structure my own time properly, but it seems not. Or at least I require a period of adjustment. It's not like I don't have things to do. I do. But the weather here has mellowed and I think it's time to find a new balance between working and enjoying the summer with my kiddos, who really don't fight all that often, especially when I take them outside and tire them out before bedtime.

It's the pacing that I need to acclimate myself to, a different rhythm that takes into account messes and fights and lazy summer days as well as the list of things to do that never really stops growing. I want to stop feeling like there's something important I should be doing and that all of this other stuff - living, if you will - is just getting in the way. My goal for this week? Make time. Time for work, time for play, time for reading and writing and thinking. I will portion this time out so that there's room for everything, or at least most things, and so that I don't feel like I should be doing six things when all I want to do is one.

I'll let you know how it goes.

The strangest thing just happened...

2010-06-26T23:44:00.002-04:00

This is not at all what I was planning to write about and in fact I am so distracted now that I'm not even sure what that was, but when I tried to load the Blogger page, I was randomly taken to the Wall Street Journal home page instead.

That's weird, right? I have Blogger bookmarked, and have used the link about a million times without incident, and suddenly I'm reading news articles on WSJ. In fact even now, as I type this, the little URL icon thingy is still the blue Wall Street Journal circle and not the orange B logo of Blogger.

Stephen's theory is that Steve Jobs hates all Mozilla related products and is trying to mess with me 'cause I use Firefox (in support of this theory, nothing weird happens when I go to blogger.com in Safari), but that seems a bit far fetched to me. I might have a better theory if The Wall Street Journal Website was on my regular news rotation, but it isn't. Any thoughts on this, oh wise Interwebs? What do you have against me attempting a simple blog post? Should I be reading more WSJ? What? What do you want from me?

So, what happens next?

2010-06-23T10:03:00.005-04:00

Now that the stack of papers on my desk is no longer waiting for me to work on it and is simply languishing quietly, it's almost time to figure out what comes next. Well, we've kind of done that part, but this is when it becomes not just what we'll do later, but what we are doing.

The thesis is finished. It's been printed and distributed to the three members of my thesis committee who are in the process of reading it and thinking of things to ask me at the oral defense scheduled for this Friday at 10. I'm trying to read their minds and prepare for whatever they might ask me, but it's a bit tricky since I'm not them. I feel semi-prepared, which is really all I think I can expect of myself, so I'm not too worried. I've gotten positive feedback on the paper so far and the defense is what it it. It'll happen, I'll do the best I can, and I'm 85% sure that it will be fine.

The immediate future involves revising and editing the seven short stories that will make up my creative portfolio. (I'm looking forward to this; revising creative work that has been sitting for a while is fun, or at least more fun than revising a thesis that I've been agonizing over for months.) Once that's done I'll have a master's degree! Yay! Then it's on to gainful employment. Right? Isn't that how this is supposed to work? Or is there an exception for a degree in something with as much practical usefulness as creative writing?

In any case, I've applied to substitute teach for the Columbia school district, which I think would be fun and a good use of my time, career-wise. I also plan to continue working from home doing tech writing and design work, so that'll keep me busy, too. And there is, of course, the novel. My poor protagonist has been waiting so long for me to return to her and she really does deserve some loving attention.

Steve's been looking into some very promising leads in the future restaurant department. I know I've romanticized the idea to a large extent, but it has gotten to the point where I feel like opening a restaurant is something that we need to do. Like it's our destiny or something equally grand and dramatic. I have not romanticized it to the point where I am ignoring how much work it will be, or how slim the odds of success are in the restaurant industry, but I honestly can't think of a better way for Steve and I to channel our energy and build our family's future.
There are a few other things in the mix as well: I've been continuing to work with The Missouri Review; Matilda and Freya are enjoying their summer, playing and reading and watching Buffy; I am thinking about the possibility of teaching high school once we move back to Massachusetts (which, by the way, is on the agenda), and am looking at some certification programs; we are still figuring out if we'll be able to come east for a week or two this summer and will keep you updated on that; we will move out of this apartment in August and are not sure yet where exactly we will be moving into; and (I saved the best for last) there's been talk of adding a new member to our little family. No, I'm not pregnant. Yet. But the girls have signed off on the idea and the timing seems right. I know it sound crazy - especially given the fact that in the five and half years since Freya was born there has been no mention of the possibility at all - but it feel right. And who doesn't like babies?

So, I feel pretty good about what happens next. I don't know exactly what it will be, but that's part of the fun. While as many of you know, I do love a good Plan, I've also come to feel that too many details spoil the adventure of not-knowing. And where's the fun in that?

Going through the old iPhoto archive and dancing in the rain

2010-06-09T08:34:00.023-04:00

Matilda and I in our apartment in Housatonic.

Freya and something that is probably finely milled spinach.

Gotta hold onto that new baby sister, there's no telling what she might do next.

Matilda and Aurora during Matilda's very short lived ballet career.

Matilda and a garter snake outside Rachel Dworkin's house in Hillsdale, NY.

The girls with Aurora on our back porch in Pittsfield.

Picking flowers in Clapp Park.

Best. Mud puddle. Ever.

Freya and Eden on the Maine coast.

Does this one need a caption? She's a rock star.

Ditto: substituting "diva" for "rock star".

Steve and the girls at Rock Bridge State Park last summer.

Let me introduce you to "the look."

Freya and her Tracey this past Christmas at my mother's apartment in Great Barrington.

This morning, dancing in the rain outside our apartment in Columbia, MO. It was a perfectly lovely thunderstorm and when Matilda wistfully said, "I wish I could play in the rain," I only wished I'd thought of it first.

Two very wet children.

More Freya... the Preschool Graduation/"Prom"

2010-05-21T19:09:00.011-04:00

I'm not sure whose idea it was to have the kids get all dressed up for a "prom" on graduation day, but it was pretty darn adorable.

This is Freya and her friend Rylie:

This is most of Freya's preschool class, with their teacher, Miss Linda, on the right:

A close up of Freya:

Freya and Miss Robin:

Freya and Miss Linda:

Freya and her "prom date," Watson, slow dancing (along with their classmates) to classical music:

Freya and Watson:

Freya - officially graduated from preschool and ready for whatever comes next, especially if it involves getting dressed up all fancy:

Found this today, thought you might like it.

2010-05-19T15:40:00.002-04:00

I missed April entirely, it seems.

2010-05-05T09:06:00.002-04:00

I've been meaning to write an update-y post for a while now, but have been dragging my feet for many reasons, but I'm here now.

I did not get into any of the three schools I applied to. I'm feeling pretty okay about this, and Steve and I have decided to stay in Columbia for one more year while we figure out the next part of the plan. Possible plan elements include: reapplying, opening a restaurant, and... well those are the big ones. In the meantime, I will continue to work for the literary magazine at Mizzou and return to my novel (a work in progress first mentioned on this blog three years ago, but in the works long before that).

Steve and the girls just got back from a trip to Massachusetts for Amanda's wedding (congratulations!) and we're finishing up the school year. Today is my last day of teaching at Mizzou, although hopefully not my last day of teaching ever. (Oh yeah, applying to teach at community colleges is also potentially on the future agenda.)

The chronology of this post should tell you a little about how focused I am right now, but there will be more to come. Sooner than later I should think.

(Un)certainty

2010-03-12T08:15:00.006-05:00

There are times when I am lulled into complacency. I watch Matilda playing with her friends and I think, well, this wouldn't be so bad. Missouri's all right. But then I listen to KOPN, to a show I don't usually catch, because it's on around seven in the evening and I see how wrong I am. KOPN is one of the best things about this town. It's not an NPR station, it's a local, community supported independent station that's been here for 38 years and plays Democracy Now, Radio Australia, and tons of other unusual or local stuff. In the evenings there tend to be local talk shows discussing legislation and news that affect the area. Last night I heard two things that reminded me where I live at the moment: 1. Missouri schools are required by law to teach abstinence only sex-ed; and 2. There's a bill in the state legislature that, if passed, would require doctors to tell women seeking an abortion that it would increase their chance of breast cancer, which is patently false.

We can't stay here.

But we don't know where we're going. Yet. Still no word on programs, but it should be any day now. I'll let you know. Promise.

Last night I dreamed that I had built this huge twisting tree house for the girls, but the platform at the top was very small. Freya and Matilda and I were up there together and seemed, for some reason, unable to get down. Things started to feel unstable. The walls/railings were thin, made of willow branches or something and tied together with flimsy ropes that pulled gently apart to leave huge gaps at the slighted touch.

I was afraid one of us would fall through. I twisted the ropes around my hands and tried to hold on to both of the girls - who seemed unconcerned - as they played and laughed: Matilda leaning against the trunk of the tree in a total teenager posture, clearly thinking my fear irrational, and Freya swinging from a branch in a wheelchair (no idea why that was up there). They didn't see the forty feet between us and the ground as much of a problem, but each time I tried to hold onto something there seemed to be less to hold on to.

Nothing bad happened. I woke up. I don't feel particularly spooked by the dream, but it doesn't take a brilliant shrink to see that I feel like things are a little out of control at the moment. Most of the time I keep this feeling (in my conscious mind, anyway) at bay with lists and carefully ranked priorities. Apparently my subconscious mind has yet to learn the value of lists.

Perhaps if I'd made a nice clear pro and con list before building such a flimsy tree house in the first place, things wouldn't have gotten so far out of hand. Perhaps if I knew where we were going so I could start on some lists, I wouldn't have had this dream.

connections, transitions, strategies, etc.

2010-02-06T11:00:00.007-05:00

In class the other day we talked about the parts of an essay - all the things it's supposed to do, all the parts it's supposed to have and what those parts should be doing, how they should connect to the other parts and work together to create a harmonious whole. By the time we collectively listed on the white board all of the parts we could think of I found myself staring at a shell shocked room of college freshmen. How the hell were they supposed to write one short essay that did all that stuff? I could tell they were thinking I was crazy for believing it was even possible.

The thing is, in essay form I can make things happen. It's when I start to think of the interconnecting parts of an essay as a metaphor for life that I begin to echo their blank looks of horror. So, bear with me for a minute. An essay has all these parts, right? Intro, body paragraphs, thesis, transitions, etc. And life does, too: bills, paperwork, friendships, food, health, children. The parts are not neatly ordered, and probably shouldn't be, but in some way that still have to come together and make sense. If one of them isn't working, the whole thing can fall apart, and the thing is, I'm not very good at some of the parts.

We still don't know what's going to happen this spring. So far the possible scenarios - which won't be decided on until rejection/acceptance letters arrive in March - are doing a PhD program for the next five years, moving back to the Berkshires and opening a restaurant, or staying here for one more year and then moving back to the Berkshires and opening a restaurant.

Writing an essay requires some forethought, some planning, theoretically some strategy. The thing about writing is that I feel like I can do it in any order that makes sense: sometimes the outline will come first, but other times it's the drafting, then the rearranging, then the outline in reverse that makes the most sense. But you can't do that with life; it just doesn't work. You can't just live it and then go back and pay bills retroactively. You can't go somewhere and then figure out where you're going later. I mean, maybe some people can, but I can't.

Probably this is all coming from a place of uncertainty, of not knowing what's going to happen, because of all the things I'm not so good at not-knowing is up there. I think I create anxiety for myself. I'm feeling pretty okay with the not-knowing this time, but then I worry about that: what does it mean? Silly, I know, but when I'm not worrying about the things I'm not doing and should be doing, I'm worrying about the things I don't need to do at all.

I try not to feel overwhelmed. I try to focus on what needs to be done and just do it, one thing at a time. I need a haircut.

Christmas Pictures, Etcetera

2010-01-07T12:25:00.005-05:00

We had a great trip to the Berkshires and were there for almost two weeks, with +/-20 hours of driving on either side. The girls did as well as could be expected in the car, perhaps a little better, and in any case we made it there and back.

It was so great to see everyone and Matilda and Aurora spent as much time together as possible. It has become clear (at least to me) that a return to the Berkshires must be somewhere in our future. Not sure when, but it has to be incorporated into The Plan. Also the food, my god, Berkshire County has the best food in the world, I'm sure. I don't even need to try other food. For example, I ate this. It was awesome. Columbia may well have things going for it, but great food isn't one of them.

I'm still applying to Ph.D. programs, but we're also gathering information about starting a restaurant, so, we'll see. I'll try to keep you posted, although as the last 16 months has proven, posts may be few and far between. I'll try to get the important stuff up. Eventually.