62 Days of Numbered Unfamiliarity

It's been 62 days since I've vacuumed my baseboards. The hose to my portable vacuum is still in a moving box, which means two things. I haven't unpacked all of the boxes, and I have dirty baseboards because of it.

I don't know how long I can keep it up. It's dustier here, so the filth collects quickly.

It's hotter here too, so we spent our first 4 weeks at a nearby pool where Travis learned to swim, like face in the water, legs and arms both moving, confident swimming. And because we missed out on soccer signups, both boys are in swim camp, which turned out to be a real blessing with the extra heat this summer.

Luckily, our house has air conditioning though and luckily, I had a lot of indoor projects this summer.

Makayla didn't make the move with us because she was visiting her dad in Utah and wasn't expected back until August 24th. This meant I had 22 days to transform her room, which began with an extraordinary long selection process to find the perfect color of turquoise and ended with making an entire king sized quilt.

I was preoccupied and tired and neglecting the boys in the house as the deadline of her arrival approached. And that's precisely why I didn't notice them building catapults in the room entirely void of furniture, until they launched 400 marshmallows. At me.

I deserved it.

Twelve days after we moved, I flew solo to Portland, OR for my nephew's wedding. My sisters, brother-in-law, nephew and niece met me at the airport, and we drove to the hotel to join my other nephew and the youngest looking, cutest, funny bride-to-be ever.  Right then and there, I started a new life experience of being the aunt of the groom.

Which is different than friend of the groom or even sister to the groom...by about 18 years.

But I didn't notice the age gap while visiting Multnomah Falls, or having breakfast at the Stepping Stone Cafe, or midnight runs to VooDoo donuts.

I noticed it on the dance floor at the reception. Not that I lacked the desire to dance, or that I lacked the skill to move in high heels, but I felt this invisible, intangible division. And then it hit me...this is what a generational gap felt like.

It was so unfamiliar and unwelcoming and strange just like moving to a new place where everyone is faceless and everything remote. And just like that I remembered how lucky I was to have an older sister. To not have to experience this along with whatever else comes with having a child get married.

Imagine.

Before the Hike

Nine friends from Torrance came to bring us some joy and familiarity and to go hiking before they started school. Notice how the sun is out and how Karalea is lathering on the sunscreen because it's sure to be 104 degrees as we walk to Paradise Falls.

We packed for a picnic at the falls and then planned for shaved ice after. My favorite flavor is the sugar-free lime with coconut ice cream.
Tom usually gets sugar-free melona. We've been to the shaved ice place at least 26 times. See we're creating familiarity here and memories.

And we are rewarding ourselves for work well done or for surviving one more day in this heat wave. You better believe Matthew earned a shaved ice after he mowed the front lawn. In his flip flops.

Who allowed this?

And you better believe the kids earned a shaved ice after their first day of school. The first day back to lectures, classrooms, teachers, friends and school work.

And homework.

I deserved one after homework.

There are 20 pictures propped against the wall in the upstairs hall waiting to be hung up. All of them are family pictures taken anywhere but here, except this one. This one was painted by a good friend in Torrance. She painted it when I still lived a mile from the ocean, and my other good friend bought it as a gift for me not even knowing I was getting ready to move away from the ocean.

I haven't found that one spot I want to hang it. Where I'll walk by every day and be reminded of friendship, of beach, of familiarity. I'll hang it soon.

Right after I vacuum the dust off the top.