Skipping Town

Today, Skipping Town turns twenty. I have a lot of feelings about this. And so, a few words: "The past is never dead. It's not even past." --Faulkner On February 15, 2006, I sat down at my small desk by the window of my apartment on 5th Avenue in Brooklyn and created an account on a blogging platform called Blogger. After some thought, I titled my new blog Skipping Town. It made sense: I was just a few months away from moving from New York City to Barcelona, and “skipping town” was exactly what I was doing. The phrase was light, breezy, confident; a little reckless. Though this was unquestionably a major life move--it involved quitting my job as an editor at an office in Union Square, breaking my lease on a beautiful Park Slope one-bedroom, selling all my furniture, and closing a chapter on the city I loved most in the world, where I’d been building a life since 1999--“skipping town” left little room for what I was leaving behind. I was twenty-nine, moving abroad, chasing...

Lucia tested negative for covid on Friday so we have removed isolation and masking from the chaos of our household. There is still a lot of other chaos ("I'm just gonna rip up this whole floor" is not something one generally wants a plumber to announce) and our house is beyond filthy with dust. Are we halfway through the reno? Perhaps. Perhaps. Friday night the girls and I watched This Is Us while Andrew went to a rodeo downtown--it was a work event. He had a bit of difficulty deciding what to wear, truly uncomfortable with any deviation from his typical put-together ensembles of a tucked-in button-down shirt. He still wore a tucked-in button-down shirt, but it was flannel. He tried to wear a wool blazer. Greta and I said no. Saturday Lucia had a track meet in Youngstown, and Andrew, Greta, and I went to watch--my first track meet. She did well despite having been sick and not doing intense workouts this week. We stayed for her two events (a relay and the mile) and then w...

Lucia stayed home from school on Wednesday, though she's feeling mostly fine--a very mild Covid case. I'm still masking in the house which is a HUGE pain, but unavoidable. The week's renovation work is focused on plumbing and electrical. Sometimes the water is turned off; sometimes, after everyone leaves, we realize Greta's room has no electricity and she lights twenty candles so she can see while she gets ready for bed. One positive step forward is that the plumber is getting closer to solving The Mystery of No Cold Water. And I'm not going to make too bold a claim, but it's very possible that I provided the clue that unlocked the whole case. No, I haven't "examined the plumbing" or "tested any pipes" or "identified any crossed valves," but I did provide a logical path forward by pointing out to the plumber that the people we bought the house from had renovated all the bathrooms using very unskilled contractors, and that had to...

As though we don't have enough chaos, Lucia tested positive for covid this morning and stayed home from school. She's mostly fine--no fever or cough; just a sore throat--but still. Covid? She's isolating in her bedroom and I'm masking in the house, which is the worst but necessary. Sigh. Our house continues to be chaotic. Having a basement kitchen is great...until the work moves to the basement. The electricians and plumbers both need to be down there this week, which has made things like preparing lunch or getting a glass of water a challenge. 

Behind on these posts. In a nutshell:  Andrew was supposed to come home from Germany on Friday but didn't get back until Sunday because of an ice storm in Berlin. We also had bad weather and I chickened out on taking Lucia for her permit test on Saturday morning. The girls and I hunkered down to play games and watch This Is Us. The basement is inconvenient...but also pretty cozy. Sunday was the Big Game. We usually host a Super Bowl party but, obviously, there is no hosting this year. So we went to the Clarks'. The girls and I brought our 'analog bags' and busied ourselves with various crafts while others watched the game. (We had some crafting company, too.) I did a Valentine's zentangle; Greta colored and worked on a puzzle; Lucia started bedazzling a book cover. We did watch the halftime show. Monday, Lucia came home from school saying she didn't feel well, so that's not great.  The house continues to be chaotic. Random areas of ceiling have been cut into...

Lucia is selecting classes for junior year. She is supposed to start choosing classes that create kind of 'narrative' for what she wants to study. We are trying to help (not that she wants our help), but she truly has no idea what she is interested in.  I can relate. I recently came across a bio I wrote during my summer at the Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts, which was the summer of 1994, when I'd just finished my junior year of high school. I was seventeen. This bio was to be included in a collection of pieces written by the other students in my poetry class:           Besides writing poetry, Margo "Violet" Orlando also enjoys writing in her journal, playing the violin, and acting. This year, she will be a senior at Geibel High School in Connellsville, PA. Margo's future plans are completely made--where she wants to go, what she wants to do, who she wants to be--and she's waiting for just the right moment to reveal these plans to the world...