I’ve got some pulled pork happily steaming away in a dutch oven. The laundry is spinning and humming in the other room. I have a plan for tomorrow — rewrite an essay for a new publication and get back to the running. Last week, I dashed out an article about the Supreme Court in a couple hours and then monitored its “shares” and “likes” on social media for several days. We had three parties this weekend, so we’re feeling fulfilled and popular. I’ve got to feed the guys and check in with the Apt. 11d peeps in the next fifteen minutes before we drive to the church for 6:30 mass.
(And now returned to the blog post on Monday afternoon.)
I spent the morning working on an essay. It’s something different for me, so it’s taking too long. Not bound by the Atlantic formula, I’m drifting around and rambling. It’s going to take a week to get this puppy in order.
One of our three parties this weekend was out in the Rockaways in Queens — a little strip of land at the southern most part of New York City in the harbor. Residents have a beach front house, but still take the A train to midtown Manhattan, which is cool in theory. The neighborhood is mostly Irish and Italian cops and firemen, whose homes have been passed down through the generations for a 100 years. The houses range from shacks to crazy, tacky mansions with statues of Greek gods on the front lawn. I hear that the hipsters are making it cool again, but I didn’t see the bearded ones there this weekend.
The party was at a friend’s brother’s house. He bought a two family house and is making enough from the AirBnB in the second unit to coverage the mortgage. I would like to be a property mogul someday. I guess we need to get the kid through college first.
With Jonah committed to our state college, we’re starting to make other plans. We’re meeting with a kitchen cabinet contractor on Tuesday. He’s got to choose a dorm and get a job for the summer. We’re trying to find a good camp for Ian. Our vacation is going to be simple this summer – a trip to North Carolina to visit the in-laws with a long detour in the mountains.
We’re slowly transitioning from a life that is centered around our kid’s school to a new life that is less anchored to the community. Which is odd, because two of our parties this weekend were in town with people that we met through Jonah. Ian was loving the evening folk mass so much that I’m going to make some phone calls to get him into the band. We’re becoming more rooted in our community, just as we have fewer reasons to be here.
The houses of Jonah’s friends are already on the market. Nobody wants to live here with the high property taxes, once the kids are gone. It’s cheaper to live elsewhere. But now I’m finding reasons to stay. We still have Ian in an area school, and there’s a new kitchen. Jonah’s imminent departure has opened up all sorts of questions and possibilities and change.