Wrap Up

Dear J-

Yesterday we went to a dumpling-wrapping party, which we might have thought was something that belongs to our parents but turns out we can get behind too; It’s nice to talk to adults at times while the kids are lost in their own realms. I’m still used to watching the kids at parties and I’m not sure what I’m doing if I’m not doing that, but I’m always surprised by how much I have to say (or how little, it feels, as our nuclear family shrinks and our interactions disappear) at these social events. Every word is slightly momentous as it comes out and some day I might actually have enough to say that I don’t feel so awkward at these things.

We’ve now been to visit two friends at their houses and by any measure they’re successful — nice houses, fairly spacious and airy — which always lends itself to comparison in my mind: well, what about us? How do we stack up? Yes, our house is smaller, and probably older and darker and … well, for the first time in a while I’m not finding my thoughts running down that way. why bother? This is what we could afford where we needed to live and I’m happy with that. Sure, there could always be more, but there’s always going to be more no matter where we are. I understand that ambition, and I’m glad our friends have nice houses, but ours is cosy too, and I’m glad to be there — to be here.

All part of growing up, I suppose: you grow content (or is that complacent, I wonder) with where you are and how you’ve been and I think there’s plenty of reason to be. Having lived with so much stuff in storage already I’ve learned that more is sometimes just more. I do want to spend more time with the photography so I can pull the lenses out of their cases and have some more time walking around with the kids, finding the remarkable in every day again. Spend enough time listening to only the voices in your head and you’ll go crazy, so let’s make it a lot more social instead, shall we?



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