When we leave Arizona to return to Colorado I’m always asked if I am sad to be leaving or simply ecstatic to be coming back to Denver. Truthfully, the answer is both. And it doesn’t matter which direction I’m heading. I always have mixed feelings. That’s really a good thing, though. It means I have a pretty darn good life.
But the one thing that I can almost take to the bank is that no matter which direction we’re heading, the house we’re coming home to will need some work. If you own a house, you know that it’s always something. A broken garbage disposal; woodpecker holes in your siding; the dishwasher doesn’t work; the foliage is looking sad. And when you are blessed enough to own two houses, it’s always something times 2.
I sent an email to our neighbors early last week letting them know that we would be home by week end. I got a pleasant email back from one of our neighbors wishing us safe travels and alerting us to the fact that Denver had gotten a lot of rain lately and foliage was springing forth all over. That was code for “your grass is so long that small dogs might get lost in it.”
The whole way from Arizona to Colorado, Bill kept stewing about what our yard looked like. “I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to start working on it,” he said.
Unlikely, I thought. And, of course, I was right.
We pulled up to what I can tell you was what my mother would have called a God-awful mess. The grass was mid-calf, the rocks were full of weeds, and the bushes that line the front of our house were totally brown as though dead. (I’m happy to say that upon closer inspection, there are green shoots, providing us with a ray of hope.) And that was just the front yard. The back yard was almost as bad, with the worst section being the play area which was totally overcome with weeds and grass.
The lawn, however, was lush and green, thanks to the rain.
We barely got the car unloaded when I heard Bill starting up the lawn mower. There was nothing I could do to stop him. And mowing a lawn with grass that long is no easy matter. But he finished up in time to watch the gates open in the Kentucky Derby, and the arrival of our first grandkids.
Court, Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole came to see us and to have dinner with us. I wasn’t surprised to see the girls were very happy to see us. I was overjoyed, however, to see that Cole (who turns 1 this very day; happy birthday Cole!) was happy as well. Since he was only seven months old when we left, I wasn’t sure he’d even know my face. I think their January visit and FaceTime calls helped. He not only came to me with a smile, but he laid his head on my shoulder, making me the happiest nana alive.
After dinner, Court went home because Kaiya was feeling poorly. So we headed over to see our second set of grandkids.
Adelaide, Alastair, Dagny, and Maggie Faith must have seen us pull up in the yellow bug, because they were out of the house running for us before the car’s
engine was even turned off. Hugs aplenty, I assure you, and much catching up. Addie is busy with volleyball and being 12, Alastair is smack dab in the middle of baseball season, Dagny and Maggie are getting ready for a dance recital (which is called a “sharing.” Seriously?).
Bill spent yesterday working some more in the yard, but this time he had help from Alastair. Saturday evening he and Alastair worked out a business arrangement. Five bucks an hour for weeding. Money well spent.
This week will be spent unpacking, straightening up the house (which actually needs very little straightening up), and refilling the pantry (which on the other hand needs a LOT of work). I already have several commitments for babysitting which makes me a very happy grandmother.
Bill asked me what I was going to blog about today. I said I was going to write about coming back home. He said, “Aren’t we lucky that we aren’t coming back home, but are coming to spend time in our other home.
We are blessed. And I’m mighty happy to see most of my grandkids. Now if I could just get my hands on those two Vermonters!