Even though I felt a little apprehensive about the move back to Orleans, I think it is growing on me. It’s partially due to our house being (almost) completely unpacked. Every thing has finally been put away, all boxes have been emptied and pictures have been hung (including the addition of new beauties, I might add). Yesterday I stopped, looked around and finally felt at home. And it was nice feeling. And it was long time coming.
The perks of living at this end of town are starting to shine as well. On Friday night, I went on a run and made a pit-stop at my brother’s new house for a visit (and some water for Humph), something I’ve never been able to do before. It’s been a really long time since we’ve lived that close to…anyone (besides you, Katie). I haven’t yet been able to take advantage of the SUPER short drive/walk home after a night out with the girls rather than the 40 minute haul back to Barrhaven, but I’m excited for it when it happens.
I do miss Barrhaven a little. Mostly the great friends we made, sadly, just before we moved. But Barrhaven was our home for a little while. Jaia’s first home. The place we brought her home to after we got out of the hospital and where she took her first steps. Barrhaven (and our old, beautiful house and property) will always represent a happy time in our lives.
But I think we made the right move. It took a little bit of time and a lot of convincing (myself), but I’m starting to get excited about the new house, the home-reno projects we are cooking up, and the proximity to all things East. I wish there was more summer (or any good weather at all) to help us really enjoy the neighbourhood, but we’ll make do, no matter the season. I’m looking forward to the point where the newness wears off and we are just left with feeling at home…in our home. Now that’ll be nice.
Dan travels to Asia for work. Not all of us can claim the same. My work trips have taken me to far less exotic like locations including (and limited to) Toronto, London (ON) and…drum roll…Winnipeg. So each time Dan packs his bag to head to Japan, China or Thailand, I can’t help but feel a little envious. The thing is, and most people who travel a lot for business tell me, it’s work to them – not a vacation. I don’t buy it.
Dan has been to Thailand twice in the past year and a half and he has yet to really check out the sights. With the 2 days it takes to get there and the 2 days it takes to get home, extending the trip to explore the country is rarely an option or a preference, especially now that he has Jaia at home waiting for him (I’d like to think that I was a draw home before her arrival, but I think she has me beat. Hands down.)
My favourite part of Dan’s return home (besides his return home) has been the ridiculous souvenirs he seems to find. If you know Dan, you know this is self-explanatory and completely…Dan. The most ridiculous have come from Japan. One such example was a cheese-shaped tape dispenser with a mouse sneaking out the side that came with a warning that read, “Once inserted, DO NOT remove mouse from cheese”. We heeded the warning and haven’t tried to remove the mouse. Though I’m not sure what could actually happen if we did – but I do as I’m told.
On one of his last trips to Japan, Dan returned home with a bunch of little plastic trinkets. There were Winnie the Pooh and Piglet shaped…toothpicks(?) and little coloured boxes with adorable cartoon animal faces on them. Very cute, but oh so useless. I didn’t have a clue what to do with them, and Dan never explained. And mostly, as Jen can attest to, we were used to Dan bringing super random (tape dispenser), very poorly translated things home from these trips. So they went in the drawer without another thought. For 2 or 3 years.
And then yesterday, I came upon a happy little surprise in the blogosphere. A site I check regularly because of the author’s AMAZING photography pointed me in the direction of this site. This mom of 1.5 kids has been making these adorable Japanese inspired bento-style luches for her son since he started preschool. She posts weekly pictures of her creations. Has food ever been cuter?
I HAVE to start making them for Jaia. Yes, she’s still a couple of years away from preschool, but can we not have bento dinners? Bento snacks? Bento lunches – Weekend Edition? Besides…I think I might even enjoy meals a little more if they were this cute. Bring on the elephant-shaped cheese and teeny star-shaped sandwiches.
And even though Jaia is a phenomenal eater as it is (we are SO lucky!), I’m thinking I can actually convince her to try eggs (her nemisis) if they looked a little like this:
And as you may have guessed, with this little trip to Bentoland, I finally figured out what the little plastic boxes are actually used for. They are take-with-you spice, sauce and condiment containers. In the perfect, individual, single-serving size. Brilliant. If only I could find where we put them in the move…
Thankfully this summer has been sprinkled with goodness (visits from family and friends, trips out of town), because otherwise it’s been BLAH. Yes, we bought and sold a house. Yes, we moved. Yes, a lot has happened. But I still feel blah. Just blah.
I can’t help it. I had been on a mad hunt to find the root cause of the blahs, but nothing seemed to make sense. Especially with everything that has gone on in our lives since the spring. It’s been a crazy, packed spring and summer for us. Exciting stuff has happened. Almost non-stop activity – to the point that we are exhausted and have barely even finished unpacking or setting up house yet.
And then this morning it hit me. As I prepped for work (my first day back after being sick – an out-of-the-blue fever that knocked me on my ass over the weekend), I went about my usual routine, which involves checking the weather before deciding what to do with my frizz-pot hair that day. And on the weather map, again today, just over Ottawa, flashed a small storm cloud with lightning bolts and rain coming from it. Yup. Rain again. This time only a 40% chance, but this year, that means diddly.
I haven’t done the research to back up my claims, but this summer’s rainfall HAS to be breaking some kind of record. It has to be. It’s ridiculous. And I think it’s is to blame for me feeling all down in the dumps – at a time in my life when I just shouldn’t be. But the near constant grey skies are depressing. And I can’t seem to shrug away the blues, when the forecast is calling for…more rain.
I’ve never looked more forward to summer being over before in my life. Bring on the beauty of fall. That’ll shake me out of the blahs…won’t it?
As I’ve mentioned before, I used to live in Orleans. We moved there when I was in grade 5 and I left only after OAC (Grade 13 for non-Ontarians) on my way to university. It’s definitely the longest I have ever lived anywhere, and why it remains ‘home’ to me, no matter where I am.
But after having lived elsewhere for the past 13-14 years, I had completely forgotten what it was like to live there. Granted, so much has changed since I packed my bags and left, but some things remain – things that bring back hoards of memories – thankfully, mostly good.
For instance: There is a giant water tower that marks the landscape on Innes Road, which was once, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. Though you could see it from a fairly busy road, you used to have to drive down a windy, dirt road to get there and were soon surrounded by woods on one side and a farmer’s field on the other. I know this because we once camped there. A group of us wanted a night under the stars, but were probably too cheap to drive out of town and pay for a campsite – so we got the hair-brained idea to go out to the woods and camp there – for free. Problem was, we, as a group, were not very organized. One person was in charge of the tent – he forgot the stakes so we had to park a car on either side and hold the sides of the tent up by rolling the windows up on the cords. Another guy was in charge of food. He brought a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. No knife. It was ridiculous. But the ridiculous details of that night are still fresh in my mind. Even after 15 years.
Our new house is situated just down and across the road from that water tower, and I see it everyday, and every time I see it, I think fondly back on that night. But the tower is no longer ‘in the middle of nowhere’. It is flanked with an enormous Wal-Mart on one side and Innes Road has been widened so the long dirt road that we once took to get there is half the length. And there’s a fence up. Perhaps to keep the hooligans from camping there? Yup, things sure have changed.
The weirdest part about moving back to your home town after being gone for an extended time – well, for me, anyway – are the familiar faces. Everywhere. I don’t go into a store, restaurant, coffee shop that I don’t see someone I recognize. Most are strangers once again and conversation rarely happens -it’s been over a decade since we last laid eyes on each other, and catching up is almost out of the question. Too much has happened and time is short. I kind of liked my anonymity of living away. For a long time, no one has recognized me, or remembers when I wore tapered jeans or spiked my bangs or dated ‘what’s his face’. I was just another girl.
Unfortunately, after a few weeks, and though I’ve had a few lovely visits, I’ve found that I’ve barely seen the faces I’d hoped to see. Moving closer to friends and family gives you the hope that living closer will mean more time spent together. This is not always the case. People are busy. Schedules are full. Weekends are booked. What I have learned is that miles between you don’t mean a thing. If you allow distance to stand in the way of a friendship, it will. And, on the other hand, if you work at it, hundreds of miles can feel like just steps away.
… I thought about giving away all my shirts and getting a whole heap of tuxedo t-shirts, and just wearing them exclusively from now on.
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