November 17, 2005

getting through

A couple quick notes:

I doubt I'll get to Q in the poetry series until after Thanksgiving, given my travel plans and the fact that I really need to be at home with my references to write it.

Anyone else I haven't made plans with for the Philly trip (or who wants to get in on the mini-JournalCon reprise (squee!) Saturday, email me for my cell phone #.)

I got a phone message from my uncle the other day: "I guess you're back from the marathon. I'm leaving for Berlin tomorrow so I won't tlak to you before you go to Philadelphia. You haven't been there for that long for a while, have you? I hope you survive staying there for a whole week."

It just amused me, because most people would consider rowing a marathon to be a more difficult feat of endurance than staying with your parents for a week, at least if your parents aren't evil, and mine aren't. They are well-meaning and they love us and are excited about this visit. The only thing is .... well, think of Mrs. Bennett. I wonder how often Elizabeth went back for a visited after moving to Pemberley? If it is possible to imagine a somewhat less vulgar set of Bennetts without the drive to marry their daughters to the richest man possible, but with the narrow outlook that made Longbourn the center of the universe and all other places not worth caring about, and if you couple that with Fanny Price's sense of oppression at the crowding and the noise in her family's small house when she had become used to Mansfield Park, you will have a fair picture.

In other words, that is, I'm spoiled. I'm used to living in a large and quiet house, its only other occupants two cats and a man with a decent sense of privacy. I'm used to my own comfy chair and my own big bed and more bathrooms than residents in the house. Going back to a smaller and noiser house, where people yell up and down stairs after I've gone to bed and will want to be with us every second, is going to be exhausting. Even if it is a perfectly reasonable house to live in, one where in fact I spent my first 22 years, even though (unlike poor Fanny Prise) they will be glad to have us there.

I'm not sure if it's easier or harder for Rudder. Harder, probably. He won't have all those pent-up annoyances from adolescence or years-old arguments that have me going from calm to annoyed in a microsecond (similarly, I think I find his parents much less annoying than he does, though we both enjoy their company) but he and my parents are oil and water. It's not that they dislike each other or anything, just that they might as well be separate species, with few interests or experiences in common. Maybe I can send him to the gym with my mom to work on a training plan for her (with me along to temper the workout and remind him she's not trying to win any races). He also suggested asking whether there are any home improvement projects around their house we could do while there, which isn't a bad idea. We might work on our Christmas letter. (Dear All: after flunking the instrument test twice, Dichroic has given up on flying....) And, as I said yesterday, I think going to the movies a few times may work out for all concerned.

Posted by dichroic at November 17, 2005 12:46 PM

I find visits home similarly exhausting. The Mrs. Bennett analogy is apt. :-/

Posted by: mechaieh at November 17, 2005 08:01 PM

Sounds like my trips home too. I'm trying to decide about Christmas right now. Ugh.
We find home improvement projects a great blessing as they keep us distracted from the fu and wa of family-ness.

Glad you had fun on the trip, sorry to miss it!

Posted by: Keilyn at November 29, 2005 07:26 AM
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