They are tearing down my house. Well, they are tearing it 1/2 down. They will cut it down to five feet above ground and then they will raise it 6 inches and build it again. It will still sit on the same foundation. It will still have it's old, blistered and bony feet. The feet which have carried it through the past 100 years.
As it is taken apart more stories unfold from within the walls. Five additions over the years, one brought in from somewhere else. What started as a little one room house on several acres of land has been subdivided and added on. Fifty homes built around it. Families coming and going. A neighborhood created.
If we are lucky we will move into our home in march. Things being what they are, we are thinking april so as not to set ourselves up for disappointment.
Despite the beautiful autumn outside my window. Oranges and reds reflected off the lake, morning mists, and canada geese floating by. Despite all the beauty i am anxious to get out of this house. To have my things, to read the books hiding away in boxes in storage lockers.
I feel spoiled. I should be appreciating this opportunity to live in expensive, expansive waterfront homes. I have not been taking very good care of myself. My appetite has faded to a whimper. I forget to eat and when hunger calls i can't think of a single thing that i want. I've been staying up way too late. I've been waiting for the results of my biopsy, i should have heard by now, but can't bring myself to call. My to-do list sits undone. I find it easy to not look at it.
I sit and look out the windows at the lake. iTunes on shuffle. Drinking tea and thinking about all the things. All the things.
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