You Have to Break Up with a Place

Living in Houston has been nothing like I imagined it would be, way back when I first realized that I would inevitably be moving here.  The last two and half years have been pleasant, relaxing (in between life curve-balls which were not Houston-specific), and a nice time of both connecting and re-connecting with friends.  Getting set up was fast and hassle-free compared to past locations.  It turns out that extricating ourselves is the tricky part.

We are in the process of selling our house, which is a pain in the patoot, as I always suspected doing such a thing would be.  The trouble is mostly due to managing baby paraphernalia and a baby schedule in the face of unpredictable periods of exile, and the fact that our first offer fell through, slowing down the process of finding the correct buyers.  Since the first offer came within days of listing the property, we were faced with wrapping up our life in Houston in a few short weeks, a prospect which left me feeling sad and slightly frazzled.

Rattled

Our baby was a month early and it still sometimes feels like I'm cramming to catch up; he's growing up fast and it's not easy to keep abreast of the changes.  I finally made him a toy rattle, and I'm pretty sure he would have enjoyed it even more a month or two ago, but he still took some time to check it out before breakfast this morning.

As our move plans remain in limbo, I'm trying to stay distracted with projects like this one, which seem to collect both in my brain and in our physical space.  It's always nice to cross something off a list, especially when I can use up leftover bits of yarn and materials.  This project is from a book of knitting projects for babies called Natural Nursery Knits.

Mini Rant

Dear Random Man Who Believes Secession is the Solution,

I frequently run past your truck while you are working in my neighborhood and your "Secede" bumper sticker gets me riled up every time I see it.

I just want you to know that Texas will run out of oil, and therefore its primary means of supporting itself, long before the rest of us will exhaust our ability to govern ourselves peacefully and without you.

I guess your expenses will remain low, since your government only convenes briefly once every two years and doesn't believe in raising taxes to maintain infrastructure.  Unfortunately though, your crumbling sidewalks will disintegrate completely, your aging highways will cease to allow the passage of vehicles from far-away ranches to urban workplaces, and your citizens who lack healthcare and education will gradually bankrupt the rest of your citizens who do not see the link between themselves and those who go regularly without.  However, I am sure you will resolve all of that whenever your leaders finally reconvene in a couple years.

Maybe the nation of Texas will have enough water, but I guess if you don't you will figure something out.  I'm sure you won't need any help recovering from any drought, hurricane or fire issues like you have in the past, or any financial aid like the $44 billion dollars you received from the United States federal government in 2010.

Anyway, it sounds like you have thought long and hard about this, and we wish you the best.

Warm regards, and we will see you at the U.N.,

The Rest of the States

Make Stuff and Carry On

Selling a house is a drag, and I can report that trying to sell a house while home alone for a month with a seven-month old is an extreme drag.  I felt pretty good for the first three weeks but this week my spirits are low, I can't lie.  While it may not be a long time in the life of a home sale, this month feels to me like it may never end.

Since my time is largely spent either alone or with a couple of sweet creatures who can't understand a word I'm saying, I have a lot of time to think.  As a result, I have wavered occasionally about our plan...too soon?  Too much?  Not the right time?  At other points, I have started to consider even more drastic options, like keeping the house and renting it out instead of selling it, or just getting an apartment in Minnesota but not really making a final decision about the house in Houston until next year.  We made the hard decision and now I just want to get started on the next phase.

In the meantime, I have stolen a few hours here and there for making things.  I can't get involved in anything too messy or complicated, in case of a sudden house-showing evacuation, so that eliminates a lot of what I was hoping to work on this year. But on the other hand, there are other projects; patterns and projects which can still provide both opportunities for learning and also just the pleasure of making.  I recently made this bag from a pattern in a cool book called Linen Wool Cotton.  It turned out that the pattern had some mistakes, but the book remains beautiful and inspiring.

A Wise Maker Said (Last Weekend On the Radio)

Last weekend I turned on the radio just in time to hear a snippet of a program to which I rarely listen, but my interest was piqued by the discussion.  The guest was an artist whose name is Ann Hamilton.  Someone asked her how being a maker (the title she prefers over artist) and a teacher and a parent inform each other, and also how she keeps the maker "alive with enough nourishment, how to not claw at the small amount of time/space in [her] head?"  And this question resonated with me, as I'm sure it does with many people who feel that they fight for bits of time in order to bring their ideas to life.

I don't know anything about this artist, so I have no idea what her work or her teaching are like, but her voice was calm and her response was soothing.  Just listening to her response made me feel instantly more relaxed about what I might be able to do in the coming days, weeks, years. I could feel my brow loosening and my shoulders unfolding as she responded to the question.

I Want the Village

We were never supposed to move to Houston.  My husband and I agreed when we got married that we would never move to Houston; we were united in our sense that it was the wrong place to build our lives, in spite of his professional opportunities there.  Geography has been a tricky puzzle for us from day one, but we believed we would eventually find a way around it.

That was seven-ish years ago.  The surprise we have felt at not hating life in Houston, and even rather enjoying it, has been noted on many occasions in this blog; and has been accompanied by multiple other surprises since moving here.

Finally

It’s been busy.  

My husband and I just returned from taking our baby on a trip to Missouri to see family. We spent four days in a house with six other people, bringing the household total to nine people, ranging in age from six months to forty-six years. We arrived in time for an ice storm and were essentially snowed in until our departure.  It was our first trip with the baby, and while it went well, it was intense.  I still can't believe that I was one of those people at the airport that I always pitied in the past (a person with a baby and a stroller and car seat and unbelievable amounts of shit in my luggage and carry-ons).

In spite of snow days and trips, I finally made something practical for the baby, with extra bits I already had, instead of buying new stuff:

I borrowed the pattern from some other bibs given to us as gifts, and used my serger to keep it fast and simple.  The material came from a hand-me-down baby blanket that we did not need.  They are not beautiful, but they are something that I made with resources I already had, which felt good.  As the baby starts to eat real food, I am coming to realize that I will need many, many, many bibs.  And a sense of humor.

Also, we’re moving.  Stay tuned.