summertime. mosquito buzz, faraway hum of a lawnmower, melting ice cream, screen door slam, a sprinkler inching back and forth, bird twitter, corn dog on a stick. where have the lazy days of summer gone? why do i feel already the need to put in order, to prepare? i am picking up furniture for the new apartment, making order of electric company phone numbers and health food store locations. i am waiting. yet again, i am waiting. i am trying to figure out how to think, or what there is to think about. i am too focused on small ideas, the mundane, and not taking time to consider much of anything. i am feeling good. i am feeling not at the moment so engrossed with my intellect however, and starting to wonder when the last time it was that i spent time learning and thinking and coming up with new ideas. and yet here i am planning to get pregnant in but a few more days and then i have a feeling there will be no more thinking. pregnancy does something to your brain. makes everything fuzz and everything exhausting. i suppose that now that i have child(ren) that i must live vicariously through them, experience the world through his eyes that light up at almost anything at all. realize that while playing with the hose this summer that he is playing with the hose for the first time so that spraying the dog or grandpa or the sidewalk is infinitely engrossing. he has not become so jaded as to be bored, sitting on the steps waiting for his son to finish. he does not want to spend all his time in front of the computer or in front of the television. he wants to run in the grass, try to touch the bees and try to stomp on them despite having once already been stung. he wants to feed the birds and scatter the birdseed all over the patio, smash ants, try to look at the sun, hit the dog in the head with a wiffle ball bat. he wants to chase chickens, scratch in the dirt with a stick and let the nectar of peaches drip all over. he is immune to the irritations of stickiness or dirtiness. why can we not retain that? will everything from here on out be old hat for me? is there nothing left to become intensely excited about? ah, yes... pregnancy. birth. parenthood. the last frontier? i certainly hope not.


i am trying to release myself from the burden of expectation. i am trying to let things go how they will without the burden of having too exactly planned, but with the wisdom of preparation. i cannot seem to see where it is that i am wise and where it is that i am foolish. my actions cannot be read like a book, showing and articulating where it is that things went wrong and why, or alternately offering an explanation of the existence of things as they are or the revelation of things as they are. too often there are questions. questions about my motives and questions about my emotions. why is there jealousy and hurt? why is there peace and understanding? which is which when? how can i learn to identify correctly and adequately where i am at, how i am dealing, what it is that i am feeling and why? how can i learn to identify correctly and adequately the things that i do as correct or misplaced? i suppose what i am asking is what is right? and how am i doing in relation? i cannot see it while i am in it. the benefit of hindsight is so amazing, really. i can see how the outcome of preparations to conceive is to birth in one moment, but in the next how the preparations are all for to mother. you forget once you are in it, how you dreamed of the word "mommy" and how you imagined tangibly holding onto the scent of a sleeping babe. i forget that i cannot truly savor things appropriately. i cannot be thanked appropriately or respect myself appropriately or even do it right all the time. i can only always try. and the most aggravating thing, perhaps is that there is no good way to evaluate how i am doing. either at mothering or at being. so even as i am trying to learn how to unburden myself from the responsibilities of expectation, i am unaware if i am being at all successful or if it is even possible. am i at peace? at this moment, do i know peace? or am i merely at this moment a little tired, a little dreamy and wistful? i cannot know. but i am not at this moment bothered by that because perhaps i am just a little tired. or maybe a lot peaceful. the inner struggles are at times utterly ludicrous.


duplex. friday we went up to visit jon's family and then over to cleveland to go house hunting. we found an apartment yesterday and move august first. it's the first floor of a duplex in the coventry area of cleveland, right near jon's new school. it's got hardwood floors and washer dryer hookup in the basement, two bedrooms, a large front porch, a bit of a front yard, a small patch of grass for a backyard, large living and dining rooms, large closets, a garage, leaded glass windows, a nonoperative gas fireplace, glass enclosed bookshelves on either side of the fireplace and glass cabinets in the dining room. it's old, but clean and we're pretty excited about it.
anna peeking in
taking a picture of myself in the entranceway on the closet door mirror  

living room       

living room windows (leaded glass) onto front porch and yard  

alex in dining room (note glass enclosed cabinets, swinging door to kitchen) 
dining room opposite angle

kitchen cabinets 
(the refrigerator was in the middle of the room due to painting)     



linen closet built-in

bedroom number two

bedroom number two closet (right side built-in)

tower of pancakes. this morning i made pancakes. silver dollar sized. and this especially for jon: