The universe has given me a wonderful view of family life the past week. It started with an arrival in Portland - home to my brother, Chad, and best girlfriend in the world, Shanon; with another glimpse tonight in the form of an unexpected invitation to taco tuesday night.
Portraits of fathers and mother and grandmothers and Poppas.
Homemade cookies by 7 and 3 year old girls.
Hiking through the snow to find that perfect X-mas tree.
Dog romping in the snow.
Snowballs and photographs and laughing and sticking fingers in other people's noses.
Collecting river stones.
Digging in the earth to plant tulips. Life springing forth from bare earth.
Cabinets made by the father.
The singing game after dinner.
Blackcurrant tea - my favorite.
Sunday morning tree decorating in PJs.
Another no top sheet house. Fleece blanket.
A sleeping cat on a handmade quilt.
A pine table: candles, flowers, turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing with nuts, pumpkin pie with cinnamon cream.
Dancing girls in the kitchen, their pink and yellow nightgowns billowing out with their effervescence.
Showing off home improvement - elaborate trim and crown molding.
Simple pleasures. I was delighted. Enchanted.
How come I didn't feel like this when I was married? How come I didn't want this with him? I know the answer, of course. It wasn't possible then, with him. Here I am now, wanting this domesticity - this coziness. The house, the red and yellow walls, my Pakistani rug, my chenille couch, my grandmother's dishes, my legos, my boxes of magic - 16 years of collected relics, my books, my red velvet curtains, my dark wood furniture. The purr of the mik-mak, she'll have to be a new crazy cross-eyed Siamese mix. And then all the unknown.
So who will it be, oh universe. Who's my next partner in crime? I'm ready to meet him.