The younger son is home, listening to NPR while making tea or some beverage for himself. Imagine that, a teenager not texting, in front of the computer or television. Hell I was surprised to see there was a television in Matt’s home, I fully expected there not to be one. From downstairs there is a banging as if Eli is repairing something, or building something. Who knows? Marketplace is covering the latest economic news in between banging, odd noises coming out of the boy. From the moment I opened the door the aroma of fried food, like grilled cheese sandwiches made on the stove and the butter burned assaulted my senses. The scent is present even upstairs in my little room. The house is down the road from a river. Out of the window I can see what looks like an old mill that has been turned into condos that are no doubt over priced for the area but I suppose “having a water front view” helped sales. I have barely seen Matt in the last 8 years or so. The boys and I have had almost no interaction with for their entire lives so it should prove interesting to live in a house of testosterone after living with no males for over 20 years.
I have not unloaded much stuff because it feels odd right now. Since I cannot figure out how to get on their wireless (later I discover that there is none), not sure my computer is even finding it, I am drafting this in word until I can figure things out. It could be good to not be online for a bit. I still have my phone if I need contact. I brought in the audio books so I can finish listening if I desire. Staying in Sunny’s basement gave me the opportunity to search some of her book shelves so that in addition to finishing up my rereading of Rubyfruit Jungle and two other books I brought with me, I have three of her books to tide me over.
Staying randomly in people’s homes may prove trickier than I had hoped. Finding one’s rhythm without crossing unknown boundaries is an interesting challenge. Luckily Sunny gave me her leftovers from lunch, yummy rice and beans from the Mexican place down the road from her house, plus the rest of my fried yucca for my dinner tonight. Being physically unrooted is a bizarre state, even at my mother’s home it is hard, though she is giving me large berth, not even using her bathroom once while I was there for two days since it is down in the basement. Her bathroom is her haven, designed and decorated to her specifications down to the color of the towel warmer. Eli told me, “Dad said to make yourself at home.” What does home mean right now? Oh sure I had an answer to one version of that esoteric question. On one hand I know Matt in a historical manner, in a family type way, in a body sense memory way; we have now each other more than half my life. We lived together a thousand years ago as a couple, so yes if I felt like grabbing a book and going downstairs to read on the couch it would be fine. Really. I get the sense that his sons could care less; they have had other roommates sleeping in this room, sharing their space. I am merely another friendly transient. After staying at Sunny’s that sounds wonderful because there is no such common, comfortable gathering space so the idea is compelling. The reality feels tentative. However soon I will venture downstairs, grab a fork, get something to drink and eat my dinner, with a book in hand in the living room. Well assuming I can block out Terri Gross’s interview with one of the actors from “I Love You Man”.
(Since writing this a few hours ago, life has become gentler, easier, and feeling like a good place to rest)