Hunkering Down

The weather is wet and cold and I've decided to take a page from Nan's book and build a fire. We have a fireplace in our kitchen and it is one of my home's most beloved attributes. After reading a sweet Henry and Mudge story about sitting by a fire at the end of a winter day, I was convinced.

Of course, as with everything in this household, building a fire is not a simple endeavor. I've often wanted folks to realize how hard I work building my fires. There was a time a few years ago when our heating system wasn't always reliable. With 3 small kids in the house, and the man 40 miles away at work, this pioneer woman had to fend for her family. Talk about keeping the homefires burning! Once in a while, on a particularly windy and frigid day, the boiler would "go out". And the kitchen fire was our only source of heat.

We never had dry kindling (still don't actually), so I'd have to build it gently and patiently with newspaper and cardboard from the recycling pile and scrounge around for some spare strips of 2x4's next to the table saw in the garage. Once it seemed hot enough, I'd throw the smallest log I could find right on top. I'd feel so proud when the flames encased the log. As I'd stand up and wipe my grubby hands, my chest would puff out and I'd bask in the glow (literally) of my accomplishment.

But after a few minutes, most of the time, the smoking and hissing would start. Because our wood never seemed to be dry enough. So I'd attempt to rekindle it from the bottom again, stuffing tightly crumpled paper underneath the grate, trying to ignite another scrap of wood. And thus it would continue. And eventually it would be roaring. I couldn't let it die out though. Then I'd be in big trouble.

Ah. Good times.

But that was then. Now, I have a fire for pleasure. And since the sky is so gray, and many of the trees have gone bare, I needed a source of brightness and color. So I started my work. It's burning pretty well now. I need to poke it once in a while. Rearrange things. I love the way it re-ignites when you do that. A fire is an amazing thing.

So I'm hunkering down at the kitchen table with my laptop and my roaring fire. I have dinner started in the slow-cooker and the whole day ahead of me. I've decided it was time to write something new and I'd have to avoid the phone and other trappings so I could focus. Plus, I have to work on my blog layout. I messed around with it last night, and I thoroughly messed it up! So here I am - hunkering down. Hunkering.

Oh my goodness. I am at a loss. I think "hunkering" means like sort of "hunching" one's shoulders into or away from something. Hold on. How 'bout I look it up.

At Thefreedictionary.com I found this:

1. To squat close to the ground; crouch. Usually used with down: hunkered down to avoid the icy wind.
2. To take shelter, settle in, or hide out. Usually used with down: hunkered down in the cabin during the blizzard.
3. To hold stubbornly to a position. Usually used with down.

OK. So I'm mentally squatting down and taking shelter from the outside world. From the rain and cold and gloom. From external interruptions. And I'm stubbornly holding this position.

It's kind of comforting, this hunkering down state. But at the same time I'm feeling so restless and nervous. Maybe I've had too much coffee. Maybe I need some excercise. Maybe it's just my inner-wiring that's telling me I'm not being productive enough. Feeling guilty and inefficient. Shouldn't I be cleaning? Or organizing? Shouldn't I have started my Christmas shopping? At least made a list? What else is nagging at me? Oh yes. Laundry. Never ending laundry.

Why do I have such a hard time relaxing? Maybe it's because I am at my place of employment. I am, after all, a full time mother. My job is to take care of the kids, the house, the finances. I check the mail, pay the bills, stock the cabinets and fridge, make sure everyone has something to wear, make sure everything is neat and clean (most of the time and with help), meet the teachers, oversee the homework and prepare most of the meals. Oh, and I gather and buy the gifts and "make" the holidays. I'm sure I'm forgetting something else, too. So, this home is my office in a way. And maybe I can't ever completely relax here.

Over the weekend, I did lots of relaxing. But none of it here. On Thanksgiving the whole family (my parents, my sister and her family and my kids and husband) took a long leisurely walk in Peconic near my folks' house. We were gone for hours and I really enjoyed the sights, the weather and the company. I was really in the moment.

Then Saturday and Sunday my husband and I had a little getaway. It was my birthday present: A day of wine-tasting followed by a night at the Jedidiah Hawkins House. What a wonderful time we had. I enjoyed the wine, the views, the Inn, the delicious food. I didn't worry or feel guilty about anything. We reconnected over breakfast at the Inn and a long walk through South Jamesport. I was truly relaxed.

So maybe that's why I'm feeling kind of tense right now. My "to do" list is floating in the air in over my desk in the kitchen, right near where I'm sitting. And although the fire is roaring and I'm hunkered down against the elements, I'm not completely within this moment.

But at least I'm aware of it! AND I composed a new post!!

Mission accomplished.

Too long

Oh man. It's been two weeks since I've posted here. I am so sorry about that. I have had so many things to write about too. Lots and lots of ideas and thoughts. The amazing foliage. My new-found commitment to exercise. A beautiful re-connecting experience with my husband at a gorgeous north fork Inn.

So MUCH to write about. So little time.

But now it's too late and I'm too tired and I need to get to bed. I promise I will make some time tomorrow. And do this right.

(I wonder if I'm flattering myself about whether anyone is paying attention?)

Life's Lessons

Something has just occurred to me, just now while reading Is There Really a Human Race? by Jamie Lee Curtis and Laura Cornell to my youngest daughter. I am afraid I haven't been teaching my children the really important lessons of life.
So much of my time and energy is spent on pushing the kids to be more independent and help out around the house, as well as learning their lessons, doing their homework, practicing their instruments, brushing their teeth, going to bed on time and getting up early enough. Oh and a lot of time is spent on asking them to treat one another and myself more respectfully.

So many questions come up for which the answer is "no" but which require long explanations and sometimes apologies.

"Can I buy another webkinz?"

"Can we get cable?"

"Can I go on the computer?"

"Can we get a giant horned toad?"

The thing is that day-to-day living and developing routines and good habits takes up 99.5% of the day. And I'm afraid I may be missing the "big" issues.

Of course we talk about the golden rule and how we need to treat others the way we would like to be treated. And another thing that isn't neglected is feelings and emotions. We cover that on a daily basis, sometimes hourly, when it's a day off from school.

But I think the time has come for me to start to focus on some of the bigger more philosophical issues. These are things I believe and I would like my kids to learn. The words in the book are brilliant:

Sometimes it's better not to go fast.
There are beautiful sights to be seen when you're last.

Shouldn't it be that you just try your best?
And that's more important than beating the rest?

Shouldn't it be looking back at the end
that you judge your own race by the help that you lend?

So take what's inside you and make big, bold choices.
And for those who can't speak for themselves,
use bold voices.

Make friends and love well,
Bring art to this place.
And make the world better
for the whole human race.

Now let's see. How can I fit that in. How about, "No, honey, we can't get a horned toad. But be sure to use a bold voice to speak for those who can't speak for themselves!" Yeah. That's the ticket.

"Do I Know You?" - Part 2

Just thought I'd give an update to the entry I posted a couple of months ago about a woman named Connie Vaccaro who emailed me from time to time. As I'd put it then, I thought I was supposed to know who she was, but I really couldn't place her, and I was too embarrassed to ask her straight up: "Do I Know You??"

Last week, though, I couldn't wait any more. My embarrassment was outweighed by my curiosity. I received an email with the subject fwd:fwd:rebirthoftheeagle.jpg or something, from said Connie Vaccaro. I didn't even open the attachment. I just replied, in as polite a tone I could convey electronically, "I'm sorry to have to ask you this but, how do I know you?"

She wrote back with the following:

I am sorry, I was emailing my relative in Florida. Sorry about this. I guess there are a lot of Fanelli's around.

Please accept my apology.

Connie

Funny. Mystery solved. Kind of a let down though. Maybe I could be her relative in Florida??

Take it With Me When I go

I'm feeling sentimental tonight...

Phone's off the hook
No one knows where we are
It's a long time since I
Drank champagne
The ocean is blue
As blue as your eyes
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go

Old long since gone
Now way back when
We lived in Coney Island
Ain't no good thing
Ever dies
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go

Far far away a train
Whistle blows
Wherever you're goin
Wherever you've been
Waving good bye at the end
Of the day
You're up and you're over
And you're far away

Always for you, and
Forever yours
It felt just like the old days
We fell asleep on Beaula's porch
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go

All broken down by
The side of the road
I was never more alive or
Alone
I've worn the faces off
All the cards
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go

Children are playing
At the end of the day
Strangers are singing
On our lawn
It's got to be more
Than flesh and bone
All that you're loved
Is all you own

In a land there's a town
And in that town there's
A house
And in that house
There's a woman
And in that woman
There's a heart I love
I'm gonna take it
With me when I go
I'm gonna take it
With me when I go

-Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan