@ Home in the World

November Darkness

I have never liked small talk. Things don't come spontaneously to mind; I forget to ask about a friend's spouse, and children, their sick parent, the colleges their kids are in, and so on. It's always bothered me that when people say "how are you?" they mostly don't want an answer. I'm intensely interested in other people's stories, but not in the trivia, the surface level, the sugar coating.

When you think about it, small talk results in having the same conversations day after day, week after week, year after year. Mostly, I guess, people don't think about it; which is why they can schmooze and small talk effortlessly, while I'm struggling for something intelligent to say.

One of those conversations that we have year after year is the expression of dismay over how early it gets dark this time of year. Of course, it's easier to agree, but I happen to like this time of year. I may not be a morning person, but there's something about rising and getting ready for the day in the dark that makes me feel that I have the jump on everyone else (though, of course I don't, which I inevitably discover when I get out to the highway each morning). It's easier for me to tolerate this kind of darkness than the cold, endless grey of February and March. In the evenings, there is something that I just love about the light from the street lamps, particularly those in people's driveways or the kind they put in to revitalized town centers to make them look more inviting.

I also love the warm light that emanates from the windows of houses, and if I can catch a glimpse of what's going on inside, just for the split second of driving by, that's even better. Okay, I probably just creeped a whole bunch of people out right there, but ever since I was a kid I would try to imagine the family inside and what they were like. I used to love seeing a guy in his easy chair reading the evening paper - something that probably doesn't happen much anymore.

Writing this has put an old poem back in my head, one that I chose to memorize for some public speaking exercise that I had to do back in the second or third grade  - something else that probably doesn't happen much anymore either.

The Lamplighter

Robert Louis Stevenson

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.

It's time to take the window to see Leerie going by;

For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,

With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea,

And my papa's a banker and as rich as he can be;

But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I'm to do,

O Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the lamps with you!

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,

And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;

And oh! before you hurry by with ladder and with light;

O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!

Sick Days

I should take more sick days.

I can't remember the last time I took a sick day. I may have cut out early because I wasn't feeling well, or in this age of telecommuting, decided to work from home so as not to infect my office mates; but in general, I don't take sick days.

I took one today, not because I was sick, but because the Pumpkin had an asthma attack yesterday and the doctor suggested I keep him out of school today.

It's amazing how much that idea freaked me out. If my mother kept me out of school, it meant I was on my deathbed - or at least I was in bed all day because my mother did not want to deal with me. Staying home from school was not meant to be a treat. There would be no chicken soup, no ice cream, no special shows on TV.

My father rarely took a sick day. In fact, just before he died, I knew he was seriously ill because he came home early on Friday, not feeling well. He died from complications of the flu in the early hours of the following Monday. Yes, people die from the flu - get a flu shot!

So the idea of taking a sick day is somewhat foreign to me. It was something I had to conciously give myself permission for. But, here it is, mid-November, I have taken no vacation time, save what I needed to cover school holidays for the boys. I am up to my eyeballs in projects at work, my allergies are wearing me down, I spent too much time yesterday staring at the computer with no coherent thought or actions. I'm exhausted. It's okay that I took a break today.

The Pumpkin is recovering nicely. His breathing is better, and his cough has become more productive and less frequent. After his follow-up appointment we went to 'the cherry pastry place' for lunch. This is our favorite place to go together. We bring notebooks, he draws, I try to write. We are quiet together, something I enjoy immensely. This afternoon, as I was struggling for words, he said "look Mama." And there, in his notebook, he had written I LOVE MOM.

His reading and writing is progressing slowly, but it's clearly coming along.

In other news, Tigger, who I seem to write about rarely these days, had his picture in the paper - sort of. I almost wish the photo was online because it would have been the perfect blog photo. You only see the back of his head. See, he's completely engaged with the Navy Ship Commander sitting next to him. Piper and I had a good laugh over it, because we could just hear our son asking a million questions of the Commander, most of them intelligent. Navy personnel from a visiting ship came to Tigger's school and ate lunch with the kids. I do wonder if the teacher sat Tigger next to the Commander deliberately, knowing that he would not be shy about engaging in conversation.

On his own, usually away from other children or in a very structured environment, Tigger is a really interesting person. He's intensely curious about all sort of things, you can often see that he thinks about things in relationship to one another - almost systemically. I love being surprised by what he knows or how he has pieced together some bit of knowledge that seems above the head of a 7-year old. Adults love him. Now that he has a bit more control over his impulsivity, kids are starting to warm up to him. 

He's learning about elections in school and is supposed to write a couple of slogans for his chosen (ficticious) candidate. Now this is something I could do in my sleep, so biting my tongue while he figures this out is going to be a challenge.

Meanwhile, this is making me happy.