Hmm, and so much has happened in that month, as per usual. I have all sorts of photo-opportunities, which I take advantage of, thinking "this would be a great thing to share with my family and friends via the ole blog", and then I never get to it. Ditto with random thoughts, about life and love and babies and marriage. They just never seem to make it this far.
Which produces rambling entries, far longer and less concentrated than a worthwhile entry should be.
Quickly, then:
1) Building progresses well. Hiring a plumber and an electrician, purchased appliances for the appt and coin operated washer and dryer for the common area, walled off the back room on the first floor, have most of the tiles off the floor, have one teenager left working for me, had to fire the other.
2) As of Wed we are in the third trimester. Crazy. Alexe's belly is very definitely baby-filled now, and she is doing a remarkable job of a) mooning over baby b) hitting her daily novel writing quota c) continuing her proofing for the AJPH and her local newspaper work d) keeping out house cozy and clean e) nesting like crazy, ie making slipcovers, buying mirrors and more mirrors, and re-arranging the furniture f) radiating super-sexy preggers girl. I can still count on at least two prancing around the house belly first sessions per day.
3) Alexe's turning 25 next Tuesday, fun messing with her expectation levels.
4) Work progresses.
5) Northern Vermont troop is coming down in Dec, very much looking forward to that.
6) J&C may also come down in early Nov., also very cool.
7) We had a lovely 2 year anniversary.
8) Shadow is at the vet, again, with various troubles. More on that when I pick her up this afternoon.
9) Ummm, baby shower, long visit from the mother in-law, massive Costco run, etc. Just basic life stuff.
See, by the time I get here, the thoughts muddle and nothing really seems that news worthy.
Re-reading the Chtorr series, in between the birthing books as I'm on Dula (sp?) duties. Still one of my favorite science fiction series, the Chtorr, not the birthing books.
Brendan's birthday and the anniversary of his death passed by in late August. A generally sullen time for everyone in my family, and a difficult time for Alexe, who has no idea what to say, and zero experience with not saying. I have weeks worth of not so deep thoughts about Brendan, his passing, death, and the general impact and importance of these events on me and everyone else. They can be easily condensed to this: it sucks.
It has produced an interesting fatalism in me since he died. I am constantly braced for loss. Which is highly ironic, because I am steeped in blessings far beyond my deserving. So much to lose. I make a point of being constantly thankful, yet always prepared for some terrible news. It's not so much a perpetual state of fear as a state of quiet acceptance.
This is not the easiest concept to articulate, because I am a faith based person, certainly feel that the large things are out of my control, but in no way do I limit my own efforts to impact my circumstances. It's an odd harmony between two contradictory thoughts that I completely believe. 1) I have no ability to change what has and will happen. However 2) My abilities are God's most direct means of effecting my life.
I suppose the underlying axiom here is God is a loving god, which I believe.
Which leads me to work my tail off for the betterment and safety of me and mine, believing that nothing will happen for us unless I make it happen, and simultaneously, I have no way of preventing stuff from happening to us.
How's that strike you?
It leads me to renovate a building rightfully requiring a crew of 20 and take on a chunk of business responsibility probably the job of 3 (both for the financial security they should eventually provide), make an effort every day to appreciate and indulge in my partner, and get a whopping life insurance policy just in case.
And miss Brendan.
And be happy to be alive.
Enjoy your weekend.
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