i just thought i should counter the previous post with some later summer thoughts on "home"
I woke up at 5:30 this morning, when lou was leaving for work. my clothes were still in the washer from the night before, so i took them out to the clothesline. then i watered mom's garden for her. by that time it was fully light out, and the newspaper had arrived so i read it on the front porch watching the pickups go by on the morning routes.
mom and dad got up around 9 and i walked to the iga with dad for eggs & milk. we carried the big canvas bag. as we walked in the door an old man said hello to us very directly. i forget that you have to be ready to respond to salutations at all times here. as we walked back home in the still dewy morning, we discussed possible campaigns for dad's newly formed green initiative.
in the afternoon, i helped mom strip some furniture, and we made a quick run to the fabric store for upholstery fabric. i think these chairs are going to turn out nicely. in the afternoon j.m. drove by and took a look at our handy work. i got dad to saw some of the left over beadboard from the bathroom into good painting sized pieces for me.
as the sun was setting we took turns taking showers, and all quickly made some dinner. then off to the Ks. Jon is home from Iraq and the family is all around for the wedding reception tomorrow. i've said it before, but they really are a second family to me. i ended up talking to ellen in the kitchen for a long long time. in the other room, the college kids played poker, until they moved to the garage for some beer pong. we went home around midnight, but ended up sitting on the porch with a bottle of wine looking at stars and watching a few cars go by. lou eventually came home from some after-work activity and we all went to bed exhausted.
i guess this is what i'm always looking for when i come home. something you can't find in the city. something you can't find in a place where you haven't known everyone since the age of 5.
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Normal isn't your home, silly. It's not even my home. Nobody actually lives in Normal; we were all just visitors, some of us permanent.
Going back there is always a slap in the face. The Koffee Kup was my hood, and now it's a yuppie WiFi shop. The Coffeehouse, which was always a close second, still smelled the same the last time I went in. Hippies never change (their clothes), I guess. I remember sitting out in front a few years ago and listening to some local high school kids rant about their lives in that great cynical, sarcastic, uninformed way that we used to use when we thought we knew everything. It was then that I knew that I no longer belonged.
In funnier news, I heard similar ranting from some of the students I taught this summer. It's not easy being on the other side of the classroom. You're constantly looking into yourself.
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