Sunday, July 25, 2010
Since January I've been slowly immersing myself in the practice of yoga. The year before I was introduced to it by C. whose dedication to yoga was evident in her near daily practice that involved turning off her phone and committing to what most people would consider a luxury. Yoga is not a luxury, rather, it's a gift I continue to tell others about since more than anything it has rewarded me with an innate sense of my inner world, which now more than ever, competes with a vibrant and demanding outer world.
I admit I could be more devoted in my practice. I've been going regularly two days a week - up from the one I started with in the darker days of the year. But as Bill Murray reminds us as needy, well-meaning Bob, in What About Bob?, it's all about baby steps. For now I practice at a studio, with an occasional practice at home that involves Sun Salutations and some breathing exercises. I enjoy going to the studio and have become friends with the owner, a delightful, petite 30 something whose glow belies her age. While most people take their tea on the road after class, I sit with her and talk about the things in life most of us only read about in the pages of women's magazine, too afraid to discuss the things that really move us.
We talk about home a lot too. She's currently renting but owns property, and spent most of last year building the space that is yet another home for her - the studio. Just the other day I was returning a glass to the kitchenette off the sitting area when I saw an elaborately decorated board filled with Corian countertop samples, wood flooring bits, pieces of fabrics. and photos cut from the pages of magazines.
What's this I asked, pointing at the board.
It was our inspiration for the studio. You've seen a finish board before, she asked. I hadn't, but I'd glad I did that day. With so many ideas for the house between the two of us, just such a board would guide us along the way.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Two months to the date - I'm back. Ok, I couldn't resist the urge to write, but there were things that had to resolved before I could put my fingers to the keyboard recreationally.
Without doing a play by play, I've been most occupied with my new job. I'm the new brand manager for a recycled glass surface company that was, until recently, based out of California. They have since relocated and reorganized in the quiet hamlet of Tate, Georgia, which is where I commute to most days of the week. The funny thing about working for a company that manufactures building materials is that now think about my home more than ever.
So let's cut to the chase.
After a long hiatus of simply upkeep and maintenance, we are moving forward with more renovating plans. In fact, this afternoon, a fully assembled shed will arrive at our house. After doing more research than I did on past undergraduate papers, I found that buying the display model from the hardware is the way to go. The one we purchased had little wear and tear (I mean how many people have you actually seen walk inside the display anyway?), is fully assembled, and even comes with a few extra bells and whistles at more than half the original cost.
With the shed in place, Chris can begin the arduous process of emptying the basement of all things shed worthy so we can prepare the space for remediation. At the same time I am investigating stone options for our backyard patio project. (See above) Originally, I had a lead on dirt cheap marble, but with the cost of matching split-face (for the walls), we've decided to source stone from a distributor up I-75. Marble, although native to the area, would have been like outfitting a hound dog in a fur coat. Ridiculous.
We are, I'm happy to report, content. Of course, like any couple rounding out their second year we don't agree on everything (he wants a pitched roof, and I want to keep from bastardizing our ranch home), but then, I can't think of a single person I've ever agreed with about everything. In fact, in creating home with Chris, I've learned a lot about relationships, how they ebb and flow, and how each day is a discovery. An old friend asked me yesterday if it's love, does what Chris and I have constitute as the real thing? Of course, I said, love is the never ending attempt to want to know someone, even after realizing that we never really know anybody. And so I confess, I could spend the rest of my life wanting to know this man.