No Strings Attached

Posted By Kathleen David on May 21, 2020

Day 67 of the Homebound Saga

When we get packages, the boxes tend to become cat napping spots.

We call it “If I fits, I sits” principle. It does not matter the size of box; they will try to fit.

Right now, we have a nice sized box that the cats have been rotating usage of. I have been watching the box move across the floor as they leap out of it. I am not moving the box back because I want to see where it ends up.

Yes, that is what I am doing for entertainment. 

Today is not as windy as it has been the past couple of days. I am going to give the picnic table a good scrub and get the winter dirt off of it.

I have a few other cleaning things I need to do and then I will be back to puppet land for the afternoon.

Caroline had finished her AP exams for this year. Now it is whatever is left for her to do each day until the end of the school year.

Peter is working on a new work that came to his head from a sketch we did at a convention years ago. It is funny and irreverent. Yes, I get to read Peter’s work before the world gets a shot at it. One of the perks of being his wife.

Right now, I am feeling a lot of mixed emotions about the world and my spot in it. It changes from hour to hour. I woke up mad as heck about everything and was about to write a rant. By the time I got my morning tasks done, my mind went from mad to neutral to really okay with the world and my place in it. I could turn on a dime and go back to dark thoughts but right now I am feeling almost hopeful.

My parents have listed their house for sale. I am of mixed feeling about it.

I am glad they are getting out before they can no longer take care of the house. I am sad because it was my childhood home. But I am fine with it because I would rather my parents be somewhere that will allow them to live the life they want to live.

Honestly, it was the fact that I didn’t get my last walk through because of COVID-19 is what hurts the most. I was supposed to go down on March 23 for one last family dinner at the house and grab things I had there. Mom didn’t get her last dinner with her children around the table that we have had so many meals and I didn’t get to say good-bye to the house.

But that’s alright. I have lots of memories of that house and all the things that happened within. As do my friends I grew up with and my brothers and sister’s friends. We had meetings of the Druid Hills Science Fiction club there. We had opening night parties for Theatre Emory. There were the annual cookie party that many people looked forward to. 

I had my own room that I plastered with pictures and posters that reflected what I was interested in at the time. I had a record player in there so I could listen to my music while I worked on my homework. It was my space and my parents let me express myself in it. 

The backyard is a thing of wonder. When we got the property, the backyard was pretty wild and unkempt. Now it has formal gardens that has been on the Druid Hills Home Tour more than once. My parents worked hard to make it what it is and even harder to maintain it. 

They build an addition to the house which we called the West Wing. It is a very airy room with lots of light and became the place we congregated as a family. Because they had to knock down the garage, they were able to build the two-car garage that they wanted and get the garden shed they needed. 

We had lots of bookshelves in the house all filled with books. We were encouraged to read from a young age. My parents introduced me to many of the authors I love to this day through their books that they enjoyed. 

It was a good home to grow up in as it was big enough that you could get away from the rest of the family if you needed to but small enough that we could spend time together as a family. 

I will always have fond memories of that house. 

However, I would rather my parents be comfortable and safe than stay somewhere that might become dangerous as anyone who has had to navigate the stairs to the second floor in the dark can attest to. The basement stairs are a whole other issue for those with bad knees.

I am grateful for the time I spent in my childhood home.

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