This season finds us preoccupied with houses, selling one, acquiring another. What do these different house styles say about us?
We joined our lives together, each owning a ranch style home.
Together we sold those homes, then combined our assets to purchase the lake house. From the street it was a beautiful ranch home that morphed once you entered into a three-story home that overlooked the lake and embraced the glory of sunsets all year long. It was the house where we thought our children would come to make memories. Not so much. Instead, we made lots of memories ourselves there. It was the house with the impeccably manicured yard and beautiful plantings. We enjoyed the changes of the seasons, the wild wind off the lake, the opportunity to sail whenever we wanted, and even the sound of our winter guests who set up shacks on the lake for ice fishing.
From there we moved to the Colorado house, described as an old-style mountain home. We gave up the yard and the effort it took to maintain for more natural and rugged living. This house towered above the ground with the front prow encased in glass. Once you entered the home, you felt as though you could soar into the heavens. Your gaze always drawn into the sky. The air at this elevation was dryer and the skies clearer. All the seasons here seemed to arrive earlier than we expected, but each was a welcome change. Wildlife lived in proximity and sometimes challenged our abilities to cultivate anything green. The wind here surprised me and often prevented us for utilizing our outdoor spaces. It often caused me to ponder the ruggedness of life for the early settlers and wonder how they endured. But even more, I found myself surprised and mesmerized by how close and plentiful the stars appeared; I thought I could reach out and grab one… It was here that we would lie on the deck and watch shooting stars (a first for me).
Now we are relocating, even further west; something I never imagined. This time we move to a Mediterranean style home, in a rural location with different vegetation from anything I’ve known. Our trips these last eight years to California have introduced me to some of these plants so they don’t appear as foreign as they used to, but I know nothing of their care. Something new to learn. The daytime climate outdoors may be warmer, but the house design should keep us comfortable. The more temperate climate and house design should provide the opportunity to utilize outdoor living more—something we’ve both wanted. A dedicated art room instead of repurposing a room will be a fresh experience and the location where you may often find me. Many of the critters I’ve become accustomed to in Colorado will also live there, plus a few new ones. Our new home will allow an opportunity to absorb the new landscapes and vistas, which will thrill me. Enough space to entertain, yet enough private spaces for us to enjoy living in our comfort zone. Who knows what adventures await us there?
Change and change and change. Each house so different from the one before and each filled with pleasant thoughts. I expect the fresh change to continue to offer adventures, hope and another place for us to share our love.
I’ve been “Writing Through the Pandemic.” It’s been an interesting process which sometimes surprises me at what surfaces. This was one of those surprises. You can find some these writing on my blog under the following menu options: “Writing Categories” and then select “Pandemic”. Feel free to leave your comments or write your own thoughts.
Together, we’ll get through this!
When released to be free after centuries of being locked within only one species, I finally had the opportunity for my greatest prize. I jumped from animal to man, not sure what would happen to me. Would I live in a different host; would I thrive or die? I made the leap, and things started to happen. I discovered I could live in a man. And man because of his movement and social interactions with others brought me in contact with other men. Oh, and how easy it was to jump from one human to another. At first I made these movements undetected. Even the man didn’t know I was now part of him, yet that didn’t feed my growing feelings of independence and importance. I found if I remained silent within the man, I could multiply within him and others. Then, after I had grown within humans, I made myself known. I learned a lot about man during the weeks when I was just growing strong and multiplying within him. I learned he likes to be in control of his life and things around him. Soon I revealed myself. I attacked his body. I made him ache; I made him cough until his breathing became difficult. Finally, he sought help from other men who thought they had the power to heal. Some of these healers helped, but many of them were unaware I had already invaded their precious bodies as well. I continued to grow and gain power. I was unaware of how mobile man was and how vast the space I would be able to control. Yes. I was in control, invading human bodies in many places. Ok, so some recovered, but many died. It was because of me, because of the power I wielded.
Now I look at man, racing time in an effort to control my growth; trying to limit my reach for power and growth. Oh, did I say power? Yes, I can understand how a man comes to desire power. When you get attention, it feeds something within and you want more. So, yes, I want more power. I want more recognition of how impactful I am. See, over there—entire cities have shut down. Who has the power now? Oh, latest news flash—countries have closed their borders. Man’s movement is limited; no longer can he roam the earth at will.
I heard some scientists are studying me. What do they hope to find? How to become as powerful as me? Suggestions include they are looking for an immunization to neutralize me. Really? They think they can do that. We’ll see…
I kicked off 2018 by cleaning my art room. I’m not sure if it’s the added organization in the room or simply spending time surrounded by art supplies that generated such a desire to create things. I’ve even been able to share my space and time with a friend creating cards.
Here is a sampling of some cards created during this time…
Then I decided to try something different. I have no idea what I’m going to use this for — maybe some day a children’s story.
What sparks your creativity? Are you willing to share some of the things you are working on?
…while memories from my childhood came flooding back.
Yesterday’s day was full. While in Glenwood Springs we went to the pedestrian bridge to view the demolition progress of the main street bridge.
Upon arriving at the site, fragrance in the air drove my memories. I detected a mixture of huge equipment exhaust and oil; broken cement; dirt and hot metal smells. It reminded me of my father. He spent his life doing road construction work. My dad smelled like this when he came home. He’d take us on weekend drives to see his work. Those sites were always close to completion, had minimal equipment there, no workers and not yet opened for public use.
So, though I could say he did road construction work, I knew little about how he spent his days, or what that work entailed. He didn’t talk about it much and when he did, it always sounded like ‘just a job’ and effortless.
After his death I learned more about what he did. He was in management for the company he worked for; they created a special position for him. Because they wanted him in management, and he wanted to still drive the big equipment the company created a new status allowing both sides to gain what they wanted.
People approached me at his visitation and spoke at length and with great respect for what they learned from him. Former co-workers remembered him as a man of his word. Men talked about some of the larger projects where they had worked with him. I saw a few pictures of him on ‘big equipment’ and he was always smiling.
Great as it was to learn those things, yesterday’s glimpse into the bridge demolition opened his world more. Amazed, I watched this huge equipment maneuver heavy pieces of demolished steel, and load it onto a semi trailer. The big claw making tiny movements, shifted the heavy load to just the right place on the truck. The obvious uncertainty of how these large pieces of mangled steel would be transported away, meant there were additional people and pieces of equipment at the ready, to ensure the work gets done.
I’m sure we’ll return to the site. History is being made in Glenwood. The old Grand Avenue Bridge is being replaced. Who knows that my thoughts will be on a subsequent visit?