Change Is Hard

Though Fridays now have little or no meaning to me, they aren’t the end of a work week, or the beginning of a work-free weekend, there is still something special about the day.  Maybe it’s that it is once again sunny and almost warm.  Or the fact that I spent some of it outside, even though it was only to weed.  Maybe it’s just that other people seem to be happier on Fridays, which flows over to me.  I don’t know.  But today was sort of a nice day. 

It was a good day because for the first time since I got back from New York City I got dressed in something besides sweats, and went out with a list of stuff to do.  Starting with my favorite place…(guess where)…of course, the LIBRARY!  I sat there and read for a couple of hours without falling asleep.  It was quiet on this Friday morning, and I enjoyed the luxurary of not having to rush, or to think about what I should be doing instead.  It was lovely.  Then on to the mall where I bought some sheets and looked at all the clothes I don’t need, out to eat a healthy salad, and finally home to weed in my warm sunny garden.  And of course a couple of training sessions with Katie the dog, who happens to already knows all the stuff we’re working on, but doesn’t always care to share that she knows.

I had a really good day.  And the best part?  Tomorrow is SATURDAY!  LOL

Yesterday was  lazy.  It rained nearly all day, and Katie and I napped several times.  Sometimes I’d wake up and think that I should get something done, but usually thoughts like these were only  passing through.  A lazy rainy day with nothing that HAS to be done is a luxury I haven’t experienced as far back as I can remember.  To stay cocooned in a warm blanket as I listened to rain on the roof was a lovely feeling, one to be treasured rather than questioned. 

Katie and I eventually had to get moving and prepare for doggie school.  She knew as soon as I started moving around that something was up and she went and hid in the bedroom.  Silly dog, afraid of the car ride into the great unknown.  In she went, into her crate in the back of the car, beginning her travel quiver even as I closed the crate and lowered the car gate.  She panted and paced the entire trip to school, and once out of the car and inside the pole barn, alongside 15 other (generally larger) barking dogs she stuck to my leg like a burr.

We didn’t get much done on this first night of school.  The instructor talked and we sat on benches and tried to control our restless dogs while we listened.  They were like little kids on the first day of school, no rules, no agreeded upon behavior, just normal doggy sniffing and whining and pulling and sighing and jumping and barking.  They all wanted to get GOING for heavens sake.  Hopefully next week we will be more active.  Katie was glad, this time, to be back in the car.

At home, later in the evening Katie made a quick inspection of the house, then collapsed in such a deep exhausted sleep that I had to physically pick her up to wake her in order for us to take our nightly walk.  And she had only 15 minutes of work at school!  Wait until we spend a whole hour learning new things!  As a previous student I know how tiring learning can be.  Oh wait a minute, most of the learning will be mine, not hers.  Sigh.  Once a student, always a student I guess!

With school over forever, and no job in the near future I have to figure out what to do with myself.  I have always said that if I weren’t working I had a list of stuff I wanted to do.  Today, the first day of decent weather since I’ve been back from New York, I spent a good part of the day outside weeding.  Weeding is not fun, but necessary.  I have weeks worth of weeding ahead of me.  I also need to order a gazillion yards of mulch to put into the gardens to reduce future weeding.  I’m hoping that this blog isn’t reduced to weed control news, but we shall see.

Katie (the dog) and I are going to obedience class tomorrow evening.  The first evening of what I hope will eventually lead to agility fun.  Maybe.  Depends on how I do I guess.  It has less to do with Katie and more to do with me making Katie follow the rules.  I’m not that good at making her do anything. She’s just so darn cute.  But I suppose she would be more cute if she were a bit under control.

So happy days here as Katie and I enjoy the sunshine and the lack of committment to anything in particular.

Yesterday we took time out from the city to spend the day at the Jersey Shore. It was beautiful out there, even threatening rain. Hardly anyone was walking the beach, so we had it pretty much to ourselves. The homes along the shore are beautiful, the sand is beautiful and of course the ocean is beautiful as well.

It’s hard to realize that this can be so near this:

But they are…both exciting and beautiful in their own way.

We’re home now…I’m exhausted by the 12 hour drive.  Time for sleep…more tomorrow.

Today my sister, brother, brother-in-law and I drove into the city, actually found parking (for $30.00) stood in line to get the “cheap” show tickets, then explored until showtime.  We wandered through Bryant park, watching people play boche ball in their business shirt sleeves, play chess, eat their lunch and read their newspapers in the beautiful spring air.  We stopped in a fabric shop that had thousands of different buttons and trims, which my sister just about swooned over, in the fashion district, then on to Grand Central Station and beyond that to the Chrysler Building.  All fun things to do, and we made it back to the show, “Young Frankenstine” with 45 minutes to spare!  The show was funny, we had good seats, we were entertained while sitting down.  You can’t beat that!  After a quick dinner we drove back to NJ in Wednesday afternoon rush hour; I sat in the back of the car and didn’t watch the car/truck/bus in front of us.  It was better that way.

Tomorrow we are going to “The Jersey Shore.”  The ocean will seem quiet after the din of the past three days.

This morning we got up early again and took the train into NYC;  we’re getting to be old hands at this now.  Then we caught our sight-seeing bus down to Battery Park and stood in line for almost two hours to catch a boat over to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.  We decided we had gotten the best view of the Statue of Liberty from the boat, so we didn’t get off there, but continued on to Ellis Island.  There we spent over three hours, reading and learning about what it was like to come to America between 1900 and the 1920’s, the “peak” immigration years.  It must have been frightening.  There are pictures of the immigrants everywhere, their eyes haunted.  The portraits of the children look like any children anywhere; they could be us when we were small, or our parents, even our own children.  It’s strange to realize they are all probably gone now.  The stories are sad and joyous and crazy and sometimes just plain weird.  It’s a humbling experience to realize just what lengths some people went through to come to a place we were just lucky to be born into.

As I sat in the giant registration hall, listening to the voices of visitors bouncing off of the harringbone brick curved barrel ceiling, the sun glinting in through the huge arched windows, I wondered what sounds had been soaked into the grout there, the sounds of all the thousands of people that had been there before me, and I wished that I could hear some of their voices for myself.  The museum, it turns out, lets you do just that; there are several locations where the stories are told in recordings of the aging immigrants themselves.  It’s an amazing experience and one I would recommend to everyone.

Later in the afternoon we stood in line to get back on a boat, and I happened to sit next to a young woman who sounded like she was from London.  She asked me what was on the island that we had just left.  Obviously she hadn’t gotten off the boat, probably went only to the Statute.  I said it was Ellis Island.  She looked blank.  I told her it was the location that processed people trying to come to America in the early 20th century.  She looked even more confused and said that her history was terrible.  I described a bit of what I had seen and she seemed satisfied if not enlightened, and turned away.  But really, how much do I know of HER country’s history, so I don’t blame her for not knowing, just for not getting off the boat and finding out for herself.

One quote from an Italian immigrant circa 1912:

“I always heard that in America the streets were paved in gold.  I came to America and I learned three things.  1.  The streets are not paved in gold.  2.  The streets are not paved at all.  3.  I am expected to pave the streets.”

Brother and I drove to NJ on Sunday.  A beautiful drive through Ohio and Pennsylvania hills and mountains in spring!  Yesterday brother and sister and I rode a train into the city of New York and walked.  And walked.  And went to the top of the Empire State Building (which in my mind I keep calling the Eifle Tower, wishful thinking I guess) then rode a tour bus down to Chinatown and walked over to the Brooklyn Bridge and across it.  Ate in a Greek diner in Brooklyn, then rode the tour bus around Brooklyn a bit until it broke down in front of the Brooklyn Public Library!  Which gave me time to hang out at the library, even on vacation!  We eventually wound back up in midtown at Times Square around 6 p.m.  Our feet were tired so we found Penn Station again and rode the train back home.  Slept good!

Today we are taking the train back to the city (feet are protesting) and riding the tour bus down to catch the ferry to Ellis Island.  Then maybe back up to Central Park or whatever catches our eye.  Hopefully no more broken down buses.  And more riding and less walking, but that remains to be seen.

Ah freedom!

Yesterday I met with a fellow graduate, intending to go to the DIA (Detroit Institute of Arts) for the afternoon.  Instead, since it wasn’t raining, we headed to my favorite park, Kensington, so that I could show her the blue herons building their nests.  Then we decided rather than go into Detroit we’d walk around the lake.  Eight miles.  Ok, I thought, I can do that, I’ve run around that lake countless times.  Years ago of course.  And I wasn’t dressed in the proper shoes or socks.  So by mile 5 I was taking off the socks, and by mile 7 I was limping.  Today I have two huge blisters, and I can barely walk at all.

My brother is flying in tomorrow and Sunday we are driving to New Jersey for a few days in the big city of New York.  Which involves a lot of walking.  So I am telling my feet to hurry up and heal.  I have also given up on cleaning the house (oh darn) before he comes, opting instead to sit with feet up, popping asprin.  I can’t believe I did this to myself. 

On a more positive note, I spent a lot of time today putting together the paperwork to apply for a librarian position in a local library.  I would really like to get this job, even as much as I’d like the summer off.  So I hope I got it all perfect, it was mailed this afternoon.  Wish me luck!

I saw a short interview with Sidney Poitier this morning.  He has a new book coming out, letters to his great granddaughter.  He was talking about how he chose which movie to make and he said he made 56 movies, but accepted none of them before he passed them by his father.  Even after his father was “long gone” he said, he passed the movie ideas by his dad.  And then his eyes filled up and his throat closed and he raised his hands, suddenly vulnerable, and then folded them in his lap.  He took a deep breath and said he did this so that he never made a movie that would dishonor his father’s values. 

I found this so touching, that he could be overcome by the memory of his father even after so many years.  Mr. Poitier is 81 years old and thoughts of his father immediately bring tears to his eyes.  The bond between them is still strong.  That’s heartening to realize because sometimes in the fury of the day I wonder if I am losing that connection with my own father.  This morning, with tears in my own eyes I know I never will.

Turns out all my best laid plans have been delayed, as one of husband’s aunts died Saturday, the day I attended commencement on the Diag.  When we got home from the ceremony the news was waiting for us and since then I have been engulfed in family.  The funeral was today so tomorrow I am going to get back to the cleaning and looking for work schedule.

This blog was intended to document the transformation of a banker into a student into a librarian.  I’ll have to consider whether to continue it now that I’ve graduated back to the real world.  Stay tuned while I decide…