We've seen a new side of ourselves in the past, what, 11 days or so? Our faithful HP has been recovering from a virus it caught over a week ago. We've been adjusting to a few changes. Hazel yells at the phone "I can't see you!!" when Grandma and Grandpa call from Korea because she's grown up on Skype. She pushes her doll towards my Blackberry asking her grandparents, "you like my baby?"
Dr. Gooch has learned all the chords on the black-lacquered guitar he bought me for our wedding. He also does dishes a lot (more than usual) and goes on more outings (aka trips to Target, Harris Teeter and the video store) than he ever has. We spent more money, both of us. I did catch him a few times sitting at the computer desk staring into the darkened monitor--a force of habit, I suppose.
I missed my blog most of all, Scarecrow. The days stretched past unrecorded and all this just felt backed up in my head. Causing some anxiety. I've been growing out my bangs. I missed your blogs so much so that on Oscar night I urged Dr. Gooch to resurrect our giant beast of a TV monitor from the garage and dust it off for some good old fashioned diversion. (Well done, Hugh). But mostly, I read. I finished Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri and just dove into The Audacity of Hope and The Book of Mormon (if that's not well rounded, well I just dono). There was a CB2 catalog that appeared in my mailbox outside and I perused the atlas anticipating an upcoming camping extravaganza through the outer banks this spring with the mini goochkins. I reacquainted myself with my knitting, sorted through bins and bins of toddler clothes, rotating, handing-down. I organized my toiletry drawer in the bathroom I share with the Dr. The bills came due, I had to send them all through our mailbox outside--though not before calling the number on the back of my debit card to check my account balance. I cooked a full Thanksgiving Dinner today--perhaps in subconscious celebration of the return of the "Pecuter" (a Hazelism).
We went on picnics and house-hunting excursions, late-night hot chocolate runs, and spent whole stretches of evenings on the couch. We do these things normally, when our computer is functioning, but the laundry also stayed caught up, the floor was swept regularly, Seth read three or four books instead of just the required one, and we danced a lot to real CDs in a CD player.
Now, I can check the weather or your blogs on a whim. I can map any quests I wish. No more guessing which flick is next in my Netflix queue. And I can resume the deposits of the rhetorical rubble of my days here and keep hoping for that angle of repose: Seth's eye was hit with a hula hoop, Lucy's fourth birthday invitations went out and plans are under way, Avery is all but walking, Hazel doesn't know her colors (everything is pink) but she could probably recite to you the Constitution, Dr. Gooch and I are training for a marathon, we'll be filling the guest room up three times over in March, and...we haven't found a house yet. My fling with the new farmhouse didn't last past the first date.
See you tomorrow.