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I got three passports, a couple of visas
Last night: With the help of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ratatosk's station wagon, rushthatspeaks and gaudior's hatchback, and a truck borrowed by sairaali, moved all of my books to derspatchel's for the month of September. Also four folding bookshelves, the green basket chair, and a suitcase of clothes from the stupid closet. Lots of people who weren't me carried an estimated fifty boxes up and down stairs. (I carried some, especially once we got to the bucket-brigade stage, because I did not want to be totally useless, but my back was definitely not cheering this idea.) They were amazing and I owe them dinner. From my perspective, the single worst part of this move is now over. Moving everything else will be time-consuming, annoying, and still requires logistics, but is not daunting to contemplate. I'll take it.
This afternoon: Went out to Braintree to meet Rob's father and his wife, who were visiting from western Massachusetts to see their grandchildren. We did not quite realize until we got there that this meant we were letting ourselves in for co-babysitting an extremely active and extremely loud pair of small children. They were highly vocal, which made communication easier. I still had to tell the three-year-old that crotch-punching visitors to the house (or even people who live there) is not recommended. We ordered in pizza and I read the four-year-old a picture book. Rob's father told stories about cats, clowning, being a pastor, being a paramedic, the geology of the Isles of Shoals. (I thought they were too far south to be part of the Kittery Formation, but I was wrong; I had an inaccurate idea of their location from being able to see them from Rockport.) I was so tired on the train back, I crashed into REM sleep and dreamed there was a skunk in the kitchen: not bothering anyone, a sleek soft-striped creature with a plumy tail, nosing around in the recycling and the cabinets. I liked this set of parents; I don't think they disliked me. It was entirely worth the trip.
Tonight: Packed two boxes of non-essential kitchenware, did my laundry in this basement one last time, sorted the clothes I will need through Sunday from the clothes I can send with my dresser whenever the next stage of moving occurs, i.e., tomorrow if I can get organized. At the moment, I think I am going to finish this mug of goat milk and fall over.
ratatosk's station wagon, rushthatspeaks and gaudior's hatchback, and a truck borrowed by sairaali, moved all of my books to derspatchel's for the month of September. Also four folding bookshelves, the green basket chair, and a suitcase of clothes from the stupid closet. Lots of people who weren't me carried an estimated fifty boxes up and down stairs. (I carried some, especially once we got to the bucket-brigade stage, because I did not want to be totally useless, but my back was definitely not cheering this idea.) They were amazing and I owe them dinner. From my perspective, the single worst part of this move is now over. Moving everything else will be time-consuming, annoying, and still requires logistics, but is not daunting to contemplate. I'll take it.This afternoon: Went out to Braintree to meet Rob's father and his wife, who were visiting from western Massachusetts to see their grandchildren. We did not quite realize until we got there that this meant we were letting ourselves in for co-babysitting an extremely active and extremely loud pair of small children. They were highly vocal, which made communication easier. I still had to tell the three-year-old that crotch-punching visitors to the house (or even people who live there) is not recommended. We ordered in pizza and I read the four-year-old a picture book. Rob's father told stories about cats, clowning, being a pastor, being a paramedic, the geology of the Isles of Shoals. (I thought they were too far south to be part of the Kittery Formation, but I was wrong; I had an inaccurate idea of their location from being able to see them from Rockport.) I was so tired on the train back, I crashed into REM sleep and dreamed there was a skunk in the kitchen: not bothering anyone, a sleek soft-striped creature with a plumy tail, nosing around in the recycling and the cabinets. I liked this set of parents; I don't think they disliked me. It was entirely worth the trip.
Tonight: Packed two boxes of non-essential kitchenware, did my laundry in this basement one last time, sorted the clothes I will need through Sunday from the clothes I can send with my dresser whenever the next stage of moving occurs, i.e., tomorrow if I can get organized. At the moment, I think I am going to finish this mug of goat milk and fall over.
no subject
I try to use my powers for good!
Rob's father sounds fun.
I liked him. Because I'd never seen a picture of him, and Rob couldn't tell me what kind of car he was driving these days, there was a ludicrous moment at the Braintree station when we stared at each other through the windshield, trying to determine without asking whether each was the person the other had come to meet: and then I thought to get Rob, who came over from the other drop-off lane and made a positive identification.
I always like looking for the faces of people I know in their families, so before this meeting I could have told you that Rob gets the quick flyaway cat-rake of his brows from his mother, but I didn't know that the way he uses them for emphasis in a conversation is at least partly inherited from his father; on the other hand, their high shallow cheekbones are the same. A lot of similar expressions, some vocal inflections even. (They do plaintive innocent who, me? cat the same way.) He was a very good storyteller, in one of those low-key, mildly spoken ways. I'm sorry I missed the period in his life when he did regular clowning, but you can still see it in the faces he pulls for his grandkids. People are always more than combinations of their parents (thank God, sometimes), but I hope he can see what Rob took from him and the life he's made of it. We invited them to The Big Broadcast of 1962 in December.
(I had more trouble reading his wife, but Rob assures me that what I was getting was deadpan cordial, not hostile, so I'll take it. She talked to me while grandchild-wrangling, which I did think was a good sign.)