Autumn
Posted on September 19, 2007
Filed Under marriage, kids, suburban joys, milestones, wants |
Autumn is a time of yearning, sorrowful regret. As a species it is only natural to suffer pangs of sadness and a mild flicker of depression, the result of the ending that is Fall. There are others that are feeling this hollow of melancholy today, like Slouching Mom’s who touches me with her profound post The Draw of a Dress, an beautiful ode to the daughter she may never have. While I am sure that there are many profound things that I should be lamenting right about now, political, existential, philosophical topics that should be tearing at my psyche, my feelings of longing this September are superficial and banal, the result of long hours spent scraping paint and preparing the North side of the house for a coat of primer. 
Prepping a one hundred year old home for painting is like peeling the skin off a 3000 square foot, sunburned back. It’s endless and mesmerizing and I could spend years dislodging old coats of Benjamin Moore’s Brilliant White and never get it all off. Chalk it up to too many lead paint chips in the eyes and mouth or that I have become dull and dreadfully materialistic, but I long for the nice man in paint speckled overalls to take pity on me and offer to paint it for free, waiving his original price, giving me the gift of an $11,000 paint job.
I want a new rug for G’s room as the old, worn and terribly frayed pink and yellow rag rug from Pottery Barn is coming apart at the seams, has the permanent stains of a thousand little dirty feet , the indelible mark of six good years.
I want new storm doors and an iPod that hasn’t been run through the wash.
I want the peeling wall paper in the dining room removed and the walls repaired and repainted in Marblehead Gold. And after that I want the dining room chairs that are stained with mildew recovered in a complimentary fabric.
I want someone to cook ME dinner every once in awhile.
I want the bats that have taken up residence in our attic to find another roost or at the very least just stop pooping on the boxes marked ‘X-mas Ornaments’.
I want my patella tendon that resides in my knee to stop shrieking in protest when I jog or play tennis or climb the stairs.
I long for a good night’s sleep without wandering children or hooting owls or the barking of the beagle next door.
I want a desk of my own so that I can write, quietly secluded in the empty room upstairs instead of in the dining room.
I want another bathroom on the second floor so that all four of us are not forced to use the one.
I want someone to clean the car. I mean really clean it, Windexing the dog nose smudges, vacuuming up beach sand and polishing the exterior so I can my reflection on a sunny day. And maybe, while they’re at it, they could remove the dent in the back bumper.
I want someone to carry the ancient, broken stair stepper that resides in the corner of my living room to the curb for trash pick-up. I want a new stair stepper, one that works, one that doesn’t ooze thick, yellow oil from it’s shocks.
I want to finish the novel I’ve started, just finish. One step at a time.
I want my cat to quit shredding my silk duvet cover with his claws and leaving big drool stains on the silver sage fabric while he naps.
I want the dog to walk at a heel and come when she’s called.
I want happy children who don’t complain about homework, or piano practice or what we’re having for dinner.
I want another cup of coffee and, because that is a longing that I can instantly squash, I’m off to brew a pot.
May your wants be as superficial as mine this Fall. This is a good life after all.
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