Life in the Slow Lane

It's been one of those months. Maybe you've had one. Or it had you. Briefly, in April we Found out SOS was accepted to grad school and they wanted to see him in person two weeks later. Planned and executed a last minute trip for each of us (two different destinations), one requiring the acquisition of new formal wear. Moved storage facilities. Owed taxes for the first time ever. Broke into a house (with owner's permission). Survived a round of flu... and a nasty cold. Celebrated 6 years of marriage (hugging the toilet, no alcohol involved). Celebrated a birthday (hugging the toilet, no alcohol involved). Enjoyed visits from both sets of parents. Acknowledged our car was officially too far gone when it failed to change gears in traffic. Researched and purchased a new car. Learned that a case that has haunted us for nearly three years was settled. Discovered that the girl we were expecting is actually a boy. Listed our house for sale. Were offered a TA pos...

Gentle Readers, it appears I will have to learn how to Do Winter. I've never had to, up till now. For nine years, I lived in the tropics... things get cold when temperatures drop to 60 degrees. For thirteen years, I've lived in Southern California. I own eight pairs of flip-flops... and two pairs of shoes that have both a closed-toe and an enclosed heel. Flip-Flops. A good choice for every season. Right? The other years? Those are the coldest I've ever known. It snowed once when I was in high school. We got about an inch of snow during the night and it melted almost completely by 10 am. The important part of that day, though, was that school was cancelled on account of it. But aside from the rare coincidence of cold and humidity arriving on the same day, my years in Central California were marked by a long-standing inability to believe that there existed temperatures colder than 60 degrees. I remember standing on the blacktop during the gray winter days of second g...

He stretched. What happens next is shocking. While the boss was away, THIS happened. Wait till you see what happens at 24:31. Totally worth the time!! You won't believe the shady pedigree on this guy. Have lasting success following these 10 simple rules. What this 12 year old does will blow your mind. What this guy did with 5 loaves of organic bread = Epic. Worst Fashion Fail EVAR One new superfood you won't believe. He increased his wealth using one simple weird trick. It is really way, way too easy. After all, there isn't just scandal in the Bible... scandal got invented in the Bible. There aren't just amazing, surprising outcomes... there are miracles . And there aren't just good tips for self-improvement... there are the basic rules for life. But still, I'm glad that my Bible has normal tell-all subheadings rather than clickbait headlines. Aren't you?

CutieLittleBoy is firmly situated in the middle of the Why Phase. I am pretty well convinced that he asks the question so frequently that he doesn't always hear it himself. It is his verbal pause of choice. And then every once in awhile he throws me for a loop by expecting me to answer and repeating the question again and again until I come up with a suitable answer. And for some reason, the size of our house has come up in his endless questions. "Why do we have a big house? Why is our kitchen small? Why do we have lots of things? Why do we have a small house? Why do we have lots of things in our kitchen?" In between scrambling for answers, I wonder what prompts the adjectives. What is he seeing that makes it big or small, full or empty? I don't know why it surprises me, though. From day to day I find myself asking similar questions. "How can we keep living in such a small place? Why did I ever think we might one day need to move to something larger?" Fr...

Ever have those weeks where each day holds something semi-significant? It's a storyteller's pet peeve. Something interesting happens, and in the midst of working it into an entertaining story, some other unusual event occurs. It's unrelated but still noteworthy. The story teller can't quite connect the events meaningfully, but to tell one story and not the other... That's what these past few days have been for me. A break-in, an escape. A near tragedy, a dramatic recovery. A stirring of a long-forgotten passion, and a surprising absence of one. Not a one is connected to another. The volume has been turned up. Or the picture just came into focus. Something must have happened to bring these all together right on top of each other. And surely, if I just listen a little harder or look a little closer, I'll find the pieces that make it all come together in a proper story. But how do you connect the careful calculation of an active thief (it appears the item o...

As the last few minutes of 2014 slip by, I offer you a few scattered thoughts for your edification. (Or maybe I am just hoping to diminish the number of unfinished drafts in my blog post file.) 1) Hotels are so worried about saving the planet through water use. Reuse your towels, and all that. But have you ever noticed how many hotel showers have the hot and cold faucets switched? I can assure you, that is not a water saving feature. 2) I hope SOS and I do not turn out to be a prime example of parents who drag miserable kids around on all of our adventures. I'm thinking the fix is all about controlling PR. We'll hang on to the pictures of them smiling and photoshop their grouchies out of the vacation slideshow. Keep the picture of them reveling in the feel of water gliding through their fingers… and not the picture of them crying and misbehaving on the Golden Gate Bridge. 3) I'm not worried about being nickeled and dimed to death. It's those quarters…the endless...

This is Part 5 in my series about living in a small space. If you've missed any, catch  Part 1 ,  Part 2 ,  Part 3 , and Part 4 . Standing in my kitchen, I can hear my neighbor in hers. She's talking about her day, using the microwave, grinding her coffee. In my bathroom, I can hear my upstairs neighbor plunging his toilet, starting his shower. Not all small living is this intimate with neighbors, but for me, it often seems a natural extension. I stand in the open door while the kids retrieve the mail from the box across the hall. The hallway door opens and other neighbors pass between us, greeting us and naturally glancing past me, seeing most of our house. I'm not ashamed, I tell myself, hoping to one day make that true. I'm not the best housekeeper in the world, plus small children add their own special housekeeping style. But there is little I can do to hide it from my neighbor, since the routine of daily living opens up my life for them to see inside. I...