I think we could read a lot about you from the rooms you use most. I think they would have lots of books. That they would show that you care less about outward show of carefully composed colour and objects than your work. That they would show that you see no point in pouring money into ‘stuff’ but have higher priorities.
Theodora sounds like sheer joy. She was one of your best decisions.
I remember reading some of your writing a long time ago when you agonised about whether to have a baby. At the time I thought that if you chose not to - you would be cutting off one of the greatest possibilities that living can offer a woman.
I so relate to your part one about homemaking. I love being in a home that is tastefully put together. So many of my friends and relatives do this well. It is beyond me. My house is - fine. My office is functional. I cringe when people walk through my front door because I know it all could be so much better, but every time I swear I am going to get my house act together, I drift to my computer and lose myself there. Someday I'll accept that this is me and quit beating myself up!
On the part one and home making... My dear mother grew up in the "agency" life overseas at a level probably not dissimilar to what you've experienced. The family life was always too complicated to not have an entourage and delegation of duties. That leads to focus on different things, and well of course individual genetics differ so greatly within families. Your bookshelves remind me of my parents' bookshelves and my own. We don't get to take them with us, but I do find comfort in their presence now. Sending you peace, comfort, and good yoga sessions Jennifer! Big gentle hugs. Love, Daniel
Jennifer, I'm so sorry to hear about the PET scan. Dropping all the narratives is all one can do in the face of illness, I often find. Because none of it makes good narrative sense! I'm sending all the best wishes from afar, and hoping that the good vibes of the Oberlin reunion are reaching you across the ocean.
I think we could read a lot about you from the rooms you use most. I think they would have lots of books. That they would show that you care less about outward show of carefully composed colour and objects than your work. That they would show that you see no point in pouring money into ‘stuff’ but have higher priorities.
Theodora sounds like sheer joy. She was one of your best decisions.
I remember reading some of your writing a long time ago when you agonised about whether to have a baby. At the time I thought that if you chose not to - you would be cutting off one of the greatest possibilities that living can offer a woman.
I’m so glad you did it.
So beautifully said, all of it. I hope you can find the painting!
Love that thought and yep, we never really got around to taking our home decor seriously either. Promise to be badly behaved! I ll be down to join you
Still here, and thinking of you, Jennifer.
I so relate to your part one about homemaking. I love being in a home that is tastefully put together. So many of my friends and relatives do this well. It is beyond me. My house is - fine. My office is functional. I cringe when people walk through my front door because I know it all could be so much better, but every time I swear I am going to get my house act together, I drift to my computer and lose myself there. Someday I'll accept that this is me and quit beating myself up!
On the part one and home making... My dear mother grew up in the "agency" life overseas at a level probably not dissimilar to what you've experienced. The family life was always too complicated to not have an entourage and delegation of duties. That leads to focus on different things, and well of course individual genetics differ so greatly within families. Your bookshelves remind me of my parents' bookshelves and my own. We don't get to take them with us, but I do find comfort in their presence now. Sending you peace, comfort, and good yoga sessions Jennifer! Big gentle hugs. Love, Daniel
Jennifer, I'm so sorry to hear about the PET scan. Dropping all the narratives is all one can do in the face of illness, I often find. Because none of it makes good narrative sense! I'm sending all the best wishes from afar, and hoping that the good vibes of the Oberlin reunion are reaching you across the ocean.