Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 4 Comments

Fresh Perspective

It’s been one week of living in our new home. This is the ‘dream house’ I saw seven years ago, and have been holding as vision in my heart ever since. Though it’s still settling in as a true reality, yes, I am actually dwelling within these walls now.

Having been built about 30 years ago, there are layers of lives that have passed through the rooms of this house. We are slowly clearing cobwebs and cleaning cupboards, as we get to know the personality of this beautiful abode that has welcomed us to nest here.

Though some may argue that tasks like getting your kitchen in working order may rank  a higher priority, cleaning the windows seemed an even worthier starting point. Jeb and the Bohemian worked in tandem, washing both sides.

Gotta love a clear perspective…

2014-02-08_windows

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 4 Comments

Mudslide

Not that I was really injured, just a little stunned.

The clackety contact of kneecaps to concrete, not much cushion between my frame of skeleton and tissue and the slime of a silty mud slick. There I was, a forty-year old woman, legs, hip, elbows and hands (no face, thankfully) bowed down (taken down) in the dark of the muddy driveway near my car.

I’d survived umpteen schleps of boxes up wet stairs that afternoon. The Bohemian had navigated a rusty ladder, balanced a rain gutter with one hand and my incessant “be careful’s” below. It was evening and we were done with our moving chores for the day.

Seeking deeper meaning, some of the Woo Woo ilk may inquire, “What were you thinking about when you fell?” (well, ok, my husband actually asked me this – he’s sort of a Woo-Woo-with-a-toolbox kind of guy).

What was I thinking?

I knew it was slippery at the driver’s door of my car and I was thinking, “walk slowly and carefully,” which I was. But then, just like that, I was kissing concrete. Well, not exactly. My hands saved my cheeks. But I was down and quite surprised to find myself as such.

No blood, no cuts, not even a bruise. All is well. The moving has resumed and I’m back to climbing stairs, though I have paused to ponder with the Woo Woo’s.

I’ve sought symbols, deeper metaphors, some real meaning to my fall, and the take-away from my little muddy slide doesn’t seem too mystical.

One can try to be careful. Prepare for potential danger. But sometimes, slips just happen.

photograph courtesy of Steven Snodgrass
photograph courtesy of Steven Snodgrass

 

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 4 Comments

Puppy Love

I’ve been up since 2:41am, but all is well.

In dreamland, the Bohemian and I were driving through a maze of streets in Boston, trying to employ Google maps with my iPhone. I was all thumbs, pushing the wrong button on the screen and having to reload pages that were too large to read, while the Bohemian needed to know in that moment – take a left or right?

I don’t think it’s navigation that is keeping me awake. Well, in a way. These days it’s all about our pending move to a new house, a process that is about 3/4 of the way complete, but a constant in the back of my mind.

Another constant, (2:41am, no problem) is our trusty and loving companion, Moodha.

When we moved into our present sub-let situation, the house came with a dog, which has been a wonderful trial-run for our family which is not quite yet ready to commit to a canine. I haven’t written much about Moodha in the seven months we’ve lived here, but I think it’s mostly due to the fact that he’s consistently been a shadow of a presence, simple and true, by our side, but with little to-do.

Right now, as I type in this low-lit room, he’s curled up at my feet, as usual. He knows my morning routine. The familiar sounds of a spoon removed from the drawer. The rattle of the refrigerator door opening as I retrieve the milk. And I know the pavlovian jangle of his collar, rattling a chime that signals love embodied in a fur coat is shaking itself awake, and will be joining me at my chair with a yawn.

There are many things to look forward to as the Bohemian, Jeb and I begin building a foundation in our new abode (official move-in date: February 1). I’ve been crossing off my task list and looking ahead with inspiration. But there is also much to be grateful for in what this temporary dwelling has offered us, providing us with much more than basic shelter.

Ahh…puppy love…

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We’re only moving up the road, and Moodha’s true caretaker is a good friend. We know this isn’t the last time we’ll see our furry friend. But it won’t be too many more pre-dawn mornings that he and I will share a cup of coffee and some writing time together.

It’s been said that home is where the heart is, and most definitely, Moodha will always have a home in our hearts.