I have had a house guest for the past ten days. This is not the best situation for me. I am a solitary type and when there are others around, even my husband or child, for more than a bit I become slightly frantic. Claustrophobia grips me and my temper is short, my speech terse and unloving. In this small house anyone but a hobbit would find themselves shrinking into a corner at the press of bodies in the kitchen, the trail of shoes at the foot of the stairs, the untidy aspect of every single room.
20/20
It’s time to put on my reflecto-vision glasses. What? You don’t have a pair? You know, the ones you buy off the back of an Archie comic, right next to the X-ray Specs and the itching powder. Most people go for the X-ray Specs because the picture shows a lady in her undies. But, in case you haven’t wasted that allowance yet, they don’t work. The reflecto-vision glasses, on the other hand, are guaranteed to show you the past with a mixture of insight and nausea. I know, mine are hanging on the chain with my readers. January is as good an excuse as any to take a look through them.
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I have been on the Cape for a week. It is the only constant in our lives.
After 16 years in London we are moving back to America. Or not. Both my sons will be in college by September, my daughter will be in eighth grade. But where? If my husband finds a job in London, to replace the old job in London, we will stay. Or not. If he finds a job in Boston, we will move. Or not. I am a gifted juggler: kids, house, school, writing, chainsaws, bowling balls, random fruit. But this? Stay, go, England, America, Library Science degree, novel. I am usually the commando commit girl. See it, size it up, do. This change changed me. I don’t know what scares me more; making a decision or floating in this limbo until I forfeit the right to make the decision at all.