Resuming
Hello, my dear readers, yes, I am still here. It has been 22 months, it seems, since I posted, but time goes very quickly.
It is a rare quiet Saturday for me here in Upstate City, one of those post-Labor Day hot, sunny days that make you remember that summer actually does not end until the solstice later in the month.
A lot has happened. For instance, I now, for the first time in my life, own a house, which has made me happier than I imagined it would. Built in 1912, three bedrooms, a front porch, deck leading to the backyard, sleeping porch off the back bedroom, and the kitchen and baths are updated. It is comfortable and comforting to sit here on my front porch on a sleepy Saturday, saying hello to an occasional neighbor walking a dog, listening to the breezes stir the leaves of the trees planted in front of every house.
Last night I went to a yoga class that I like but that I hadn't been to in awhile. I put my mat in the front row, as I like to, defying what seems to be the yoga etiquette of filling the back rows first. But I always take off my glasses for yoga, and then I can't really see the teacher unless I am in the front row.
When the teacher, who is a warm and, I have to say, kind of buxom and cuddly woman, came and sat down pretty much right in front of me, I said, "Oh, I haven't seen you in a while." She said, "Yes, in about eight and a half months." So then I knew that I was right in my surmise--she was pregnant, for the second time, and indeed, she did look about eight and a half months. I had my wistful feeling, as I always do, about people moving forward in their lives in that way, having babies and more babies, when that time has passed for me. But then when we were doing inversions, helping each other in pairs, and I was too shy to ask the guy next to me for help (or he was also too shy and also did not need help), T., the teacher, came over to help me as she always does. In addition to being round and soft and huggable, she is tall and strong, and when she stands in front of me and grabs my hips as I kick up, I get past that momentary vertigo and fear of falling and my legs go all the way up, and it is, I don't know, a bit like flying.
It is a rare quiet Saturday for me here in Upstate City, one of those post-Labor Day hot, sunny days that make you remember that summer actually does not end until the solstice later in the month.
A lot has happened. For instance, I now, for the first time in my life, own a house, which has made me happier than I imagined it would. Built in 1912, three bedrooms, a front porch, deck leading to the backyard, sleeping porch off the back bedroom, and the kitchen and baths are updated. It is comfortable and comforting to sit here on my front porch on a sleepy Saturday, saying hello to an occasional neighbor walking a dog, listening to the breezes stir the leaves of the trees planted in front of every house.
Last night I went to a yoga class that I like but that I hadn't been to in awhile. I put my mat in the front row, as I like to, defying what seems to be the yoga etiquette of filling the back rows first. But I always take off my glasses for yoga, and then I can't really see the teacher unless I am in the front row.
When the teacher, who is a warm and, I have to say, kind of buxom and cuddly woman, came and sat down pretty much right in front of me, I said, "Oh, I haven't seen you in a while." She said, "Yes, in about eight and a half months." So then I knew that I was right in my surmise--she was pregnant, for the second time, and indeed, she did look about eight and a half months. I had my wistful feeling, as I always do, about people moving forward in their lives in that way, having babies and more babies, when that time has passed for me. But then when we were doing inversions, helping each other in pairs, and I was too shy to ask the guy next to me for help (or he was also too shy and also did not need help), T., the teacher, came over to help me as she always does. In addition to being round and soft and huggable, she is tall and strong, and when she stands in front of me and grabs my hips as I kick up, I get past that momentary vertigo and fear of falling and my legs go all the way up, and it is, I don't know, a bit like flying.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 1:15 PM
2 Comments:
YAY, YAY, YAY, you're back! And a house owner! Congrats! Maybe someday we can sleep on an air mattress on your floors on our way to Canada. And I can cook you whatever meal you'd like -- Indian, Brazilian, or veggie sushi in exchange for our stay. :-) (I'm 100% serious about that!)
I hope we'll hear from you more often from now on! And I'll let you know when we head North again (maybe only next year).
Dear L., you are my dear and faithful reader! I was hoping you would comment. And yes, I would love to have you all stay with me! I even have a spare bed and a sofa, and maybe will have another bed or futon by then.
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