New Teenager, New Adult Changes Balance
What we didn't know, we probably anticipated. Does that even make sense as a starting line?
Close friends from Illinois just moved in with us. Besides the boxes, packing material and new furniture and curios, we are dealing with colorful invisibles: the intangibles of putting two families under one geodesic roof.
Our family rhetoric has been leading up to this kind of radical shift for years. "We should share" has finally gone from lending our neighbor our mower -- or borrowing his -- to sharing our new (funky dome) house in the country west of town.
Sixteen pounds of cockapoo curls, a little dog named Ollie, and fluff mans himself up to bark at me as I arrive from "work." That doesn't bother me except when I'm doin' bidness on the phone and he sees fit to "defend" his new home and its inhabitants, including our aging but capable ninety two pound golden retriever, Henry. Even with the bravado, they're about equal in efficacy despite Henry's habit of sleeping about twenty three hours per day.
Then, there are the friends' cats who weigh as much as a toddler.
What's the payoff? The psychic rewards of helping and allowing others to help me. The meaning that's created by being of service; very old and necessary human ideal. Personal growth stuff, you know.
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What we didn't know, we probably anticipated. Does that even make sense as a starting line?
Close friends from Illinois just moved in with us. Besides the boxes, packing material and new furniture and curios, we are dealing with colorful invisibles: the intangibles of putting two families under one geodesic roof.
Our family rhetoric has been leading up to this kind of radical shift for years. "We should share" has finally gone from lending our neighbor our mower -- or borrowing his -- to sharing our new (funky dome) house in the country west of town.
Sixteen pounds of cockapoo curls, a little dog named Ollie, and fluff mans himself up to bark at me as I arrive from "work." That doesn't bother me except when I'm doin' bidness on the phone and he sees fit to "defend" his new home and its inhabitants, including our aging but capable ninety two pound golden retriever, Henry. Even with the bravado, they're about equal in efficacy despite Henry's habit of sleeping about twenty three hours per day.
Then, there are the friends' cats who weigh as much as a toddler.
What's the payoff? The psychic rewards of helping and allowing others to help me. The meaning that's created by being of service; very old and necessary human ideal. Personal growth stuff, you know.
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