Thanksgiving

 This is the first time in 49 years that I have not been with my extended family for Thanksgiving.  It was strange, but it's been a strange year.  Jeff made the call a couple weeks ago that we shouldn't gather because the stupid virus is still spreading.  Noah had been planning to host Thanksgiving at his house, but he came over here instead.

I feel bad saying this, but it was actually the best Thanksgiving I can remember having.  I woke up completely stress-free and remained that way all day.  I had no plan for when we would eat, just told Noah to come over whenever he felt like it.  He arrived around 10:30 and started peeling potatoes, as he has done for the last 16 years.  We made mashed potatoes and turnips and gravy (Sarah helped with the constant stirring of the gravy and she mashed the potatoes).  Noah made green bean casserole.  I made stuffing from a box. I had made pies a couple days ago, and yesterday Amy brought sweet potato crescent rolls.  So we had a whole big meal without a ton of work, and it all miraculously came together around noon.  Noah brought sparkling cider, which was a nice treat.  

We sat around the table and enjoyed a nice meal together. Mike helped me clean up the kitchen, and then we moved on to Christmas.  We usually put the tree up the day (or weekend) after Thanksgiving, but we just went on ahead and did it today while Noah was here.  

The annual hanging of the broken toy parts. 

The cats favorite day of the year. The hanging of the catnip-stuffed mittens. 
 A drug-induced brawl broke out after I took this picture.

Noah set up the nativity scene, socially distanced for this year,
 and Shadow came along like a big, scary predator.

A rare picture of the teenager, who didn't want to be involved in much.

Hauling up the Christmas decorations.  I gave him a tiny tree and a wreath to put in his house.

The rare Sarah, pouring the sparkling cider.

She's mashing the potatoes and I'm reaching around her to get the gravy spoon.

Preparing the potatoes.  I'm still in my jammies, but soon warmed up and stripped down.

                                                               Stirring gravy and mashing potatoes.

19

Noah turned 19 today.  He worked till 3:00, but Mike and my dad and I went over to his house and worked on stuff.  Mike fixed his gate and changed the filter in his fridge.  My dad worked on caulking windows and cleaning up his paint work in the bedroom.  I took out his garbage and brought his dirty laundry home.  I made a spinach lasagna, salad, and garlic bread, which we ate when he got there.  

Noah and Grandpa talked about being 19 and about man stuff.

We had given him his birthday gifts early (a bidet and a toaster), but my friend Denise, who loves him, sent along a great gift for him to open on the day.  

Canvas prints of Numbers 6:24-26 and Phil. 4:13 in Korean.  

    

We went for a walk.

       

He cleaned his appliances, and that was the end of his adult birthday celebration.

                    

Productive day

 After church we helped a family move.  I rode with Noah so I could chat with him on the way.  He seemed depressed.  I asked him if he was happy.  He said yes with his words, but his body language said the opposite. I hadn't even seen a hint of his beautiful smile.  I asked him if living on his own was everything he expected it to be.  He said that he likes it but does get lonely sometimes.  I asked him if he's eating anything green.  He said he's making smoothies with spinach every night.  He looked dirty and shaggy-haired.  

After we finished moving, he said he was going to go to Farm & Fleet and then go home.  I told him he was welcome to come over but didn't think he would.  I was sad when he left because I sensed his sadness.  I called him while he was at Farm & Fleet and asked him if he wanted to come over and cook something with me and he said he would like that.  I had not planned on doing that so had no idea what I was going to make.  

I pulled out every bag of frozen vegetables I could find in my freezer, a can of tomatoes, and a can of beans, and he put it all in a pot and cooked it, added some Italian seasonings, salt, and pepper.  Meanwhile we cooked a box of  pasta.  Served the veggies on the pasta, and he ate 2 bowls and took some home. 

I also pulled out every fresh vegetable I could find (turnips, carrots, parsnips, potatoes, red pepper) and roasted them.  

While those were in the oven, Noah took a shower and I gave him a haircut.  He and Mike talked about sports and he laughed, a sound that made me happy. Shadow and Marty swarmed around him, and there was a lot of petting.  He left looking better and being filled with vegetables, and there seemed to be more of a spring in his step.  

I also cut Mike's hair, shaved Sarah's neck hair, and gave her friend a trim.  All this cooking and cutting helped take my mind off the miserable, incessant itching of the poison ivy that has been plaguing me for over a week.  

Contentment

After that last sad post, I decided it's finally time to try to put into words this one that's been on my mind since I had the realization this past summer.  I was driving around alone out in the boonies of this county, working one of those long, 10-hour days at my Census job, nothing to do but think, and I suddenly had the revelation: I'm happy.  No, that wasn't quite the word; I've always been happy.  It's content.  In my late 40's, I feel satisfied and truly content for perhaps the first time in my life.  I don't feel like I'm striving or struggling.  I love (and even still like) my husband, and our marriage feels stable.  One of our kids is a successful adult, and the other one is well on her way.  I don't worry about them.  I'm proud of how they're turning out and have great hope for their futures.  I feel like I know who I really am and what I believe.  I know some people don't like me, and even though I do wish everyone did, I don't let others' opinions of me change who I am.  I've found fulfilling work (not the Census, but my transcription/closed captioning job) that I enjoy.  I have friends and family that I adore.  I find pleasure in simple things, like swimming, or petting a cat, or holding a baby, or just being in nature.  I wanted to write this down so I remember this feeling at this time of my life.  

Letting go: it's a process

We're working on making Noah's room a regular adult bedroom, but I have to work in there in small chunks of time, because I get emotionally overwhelmed.  His ever-present security item (my old nightshirt that he named Barney) was left in his bed.  I wasn't convinced he would ever give up his Barney, but there he was.  I held him for a minute but felt the flood rising, so I quickly moved on before it overflowed.  It's overflowing now as I'm typing and remembering how he used to sleep with me when he was a baby, and the only way I could get out from under him was to worm my way out of my nightshirt and leave it in his little fist. Eventually, it just became his, and he couldn't sleep without it or go anywhere without it. He had so many adventures with Barney that he even wrote a book about it when he was in kindergarten, and it won the Reading Rainbow Young Writers & Illustrators Contest. 

I remember the tumult of the day that his little sister cut a piece off of Barney for some reason, and I tied it back on with a knot and tried to console Noah with the idea that, "Look, now Barney has a tail!"  Barney's tail is still there after all these years.

I was able to work on his room for a good 15 minutes until I found the thing that undid me and I just sat in the middle of his room and cried and knew I wasn't going to get anything else done in there that day.  It was this little charred reminder of the day we made maple syrup.  I remember how hard he worked that day and what fun we had, and I scrawled out a little memento for him, which he apparently has kept.  

For the full story, see the original post. In one of those pictures, you can see his little dump truck full of these slats of wood, one of which became the memento.

It's normal and natural and healthy and good that he has grown up and moved into his own house, and I am so proud of him and happy for him, but sometimes my mama heart breaks a little when I realize that my constant companion of the last 18 years is gone.  I cry for awhile and then remind myself to suck it up, because thank God he didn't die; he just moved 10 miles away, and I still see him lots.

More work and the first sleepover.

Noah had friends over last night to eat, play games, and sleep. Then they watched football today. My mom and dad and I showed up to get some work done because it's another nice day. We need to get better about communicating our plans that involve Noah or his house, because he has often already made other plans that we don't know about. We're still figuring out our new relationship as independent adults. 

We are gradually reclaiming his old Cubbie blue room at our house.  Mike took down his loft bed.

I painted the shelf with hooks that used to be blue in his old room.  Now it's white for his new room.

I also painted the corner of his dresser drawer black where it had peeled off to reveal the brown particle board underneath.

My mom and Noah cleaned ceiling fans and floors.

My dad finished painting the bedroom and worked on the cellar stairs. I loaded clean clothes into Noah's wardrobe and hauled a load of dirty ones home to wash.

I also put a soft gray cover on his super comfortable blue recliner.

More work and visitors

 I did the dangerous part of the painting (above the stairs to the loft) yesterday so my dad wouldn't have to.  

Mike's dad and sister visited for the first time, and so did Sarah.  Sarah drove over by herself and brought him a wax melter as a housewarming gift.  It was a beautiful day.

Tree trimming and spoiling

My friend and I trimmed trees at Noah's house today.  It was a beautiful day, and we worked hard for over 3 hours.  I also put sheets on his air mattress, put clean clothes in his closet, brought home dirty clothes to wash, and brought home his garbage, because he doesn't have garbage service yet.  I drew the line at cleaning his nasty toilet.  He'll have to do that himself.

First gathering at the bungalow

I was planning to stay home today and get my own house in order, but Noah mentioned that the young adult group was meeting at his house tonight.  They're called BOB (Bunch of Believers), and they meet every Monday night.  It was mid-afternoon when he made that off-hand remark, so I kicked it into high gear.  I made pizza to leave for Mike and Sarah to bake, and took some to bake at Noah's.  His house was a mess, because we've been in and out every day working on it.  There were tools and empty packaging and miscellaneous hardware and cleaning supplies, half-completed projects everywhere.  It was not presentable for a BOB meeting.  I told Noah I would clean it up and make us dinner.  He said I didn't have to because the BOBs were just going to have a bonfire in the back yard, but I'm sure they will all want a tour of his house.  So I put all the tools and hardware in the garage and boxes on the back patio to use as fire starter for the bonfire, threw away the garbage, swept the floors, took the tape off the counters, tidied up the loose ends.  

Noah worked late, so it gave me time to bake the pizzas and set out snacks for the BOBs (chocolate cake and carrots-for my BOB buddy that loves carrots).  He got home around 6:00, and we ate dinner and went for a quick walk before he started getting the fire ready for the 7:00 bonfire.  It's a beautiful clear night for it.  I left before the BOBs arrived.  They'll stay late, and Noah has to be in Danvers early in the morning, so he plans to spend the night at his house.  

This picture is from yesterday, when the leaves were still on his beautiful tree.

  Today he has a gorgeous yellow-carpeted yard. You can see where he broke the gate yesterday.

First time he has parked in his garage.

countertops

 Yesterday I went to the bungalow after church and finished the countertops. Noah helped me with all the pouring and stirring, because it was too much for one person.  It requires precise timing, and it's stressful getting it all spread evenly before it starts to harden.

The countertop had actual holes in it from knots in the wood, so I filled those in with spackle, waited for that to dry, then put wood stain on it (with my finger, because that worked better than a paintbrush), waited for that to dry, and finally we were ready to seal the whole thing. 

Here's a before picture:

And after:

After it cures overnight, I'll take the blue tape off. 

Noah tried to spend the night there, but after a couple false starts, he ended up coming back to our house.