Grounded

Fall                                    Waxing Harvest Moon

As many readers know, my sister and brother live in Southeast Asia, Mary in Singapore and Mark in Bangkok.  It’s different for me.  Kate and I have lived in Andover, in the same house with potato670050210the same land, for 16 years. I’ve driven the same car for 15 years and Kate’s driven the same truck for 10.  I’ve now been married to Kate much longer than the total of my first two marriages:  22 years versus 15.  I’ve lived in Andover longer than anywhere else:  Oklahoma-2 years, Alexandria-15 years.  I’ve lived in this house far longer than any other residence.

This came up today when Kate and I headed out to lunch.  I feel a part of this land, as if it’s part of me and I of it.  But.  I don’t feel the same about Andover.  There’s no here, here.  I have no memories of school here or my children in school.  My political involvement has been limited, recently to being an election judge.  Andover doesn’t feel like home to me, though 3122 153rd Ave NW does.

You might say I live a grounded life, if not close to the soil, certainly in partnership with it.  Perhaps the uncertainty and turmoil in my late high school and immediate post-high school years lead me to seek some stasis, I don’t know.  What I do know is that with Kate and with this land I have made a home.  And I’m glad.

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