Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Slow Life, Zen Life 

I've read two back issues of Newsweek, caught up on boingboing for the day. Tried to make Cassia laugh with some success; discovered that infants aren't really ticklish yet. Willow and I tried kiteflying for a few minutes earlier, but the breeze died out in the heat pretty quick, so we headed back inside, where the fans and shade keep it cool.

Now it's three fifteen, and they're all at the supermarket. Before supper we might take a quick dip in the neighbor's pool, while we admire the paint in three shades of rose they've been slowly applying to their dirtcorner home. Then again, we might not.

Pace of life here at the in-law's has always been a slow one. That's not a bad thing, really, though it took years for this suburban, gotta-have-a-plan boy to adjust to: I have fond memories of a week spent here, long before I married their daughter, where the restlessness set in by ten each morning and I took long uphill rockhound walks just to have something more to do than read on the couch.

Fitting, somehow, that they have dial-up only. Even though dad-in-law Neil is a techmaster by trade. Something about the cable company not yet ready to string cable up the dirtroad, though we've seen their trucks creep slowly towards us all summer, unravelling hope by the spool.

Which is by way of saying that after a whirlwind weekend with Mom in Boston -- fine dining, a great show (Frogz, a not-quite-mime kid-oriented costumery and movement showpiece by the Portland-based Imago Theater Company), and plenty of family hotel adventures -- there's not much to blog anymore. Or I'm less inclined to keep track of the moments. Maybe both.

Which is why, though yesterday Darcie and I left the elder child home with grandma (what did you do all day, kid? Oh, Daddy, we made cookies!) and headed two hours down 91 for a full day househunting and, in my case, meeting with the Superintendent to discuss the new, exciting and proactive systemic technology integration infrastructure under which I will both be well empowered and solidly supported, today the plan is to have no plan.

I'm not complaining. Every moment of patience teaches yet again of the joys of letting go, of riding the universe in these gentleswell moments. Even the most nomadic wanderer needs a good couple of days of quiet contemplation.

posted by boyhowdy | 3:34 PM |

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