out with the old, in with the new (well, sort of)

Soooooo, we've been busy.

As of today, Slatton and I have spent 4 nights in the new house and needless to say, we're in love (with the house) oh, and of course, each other.

Here's a little photo essay documenting the what's-been-going-on's:

Our first cooked meal in the new house: I really helped. Really. Spinach/mushroom frittata, strawberries and English muffin. Cold beer (not shown.)

 

 

Jason has been keeping his mother's sweet wedding china in airtight containers. On Easter Sunday, we set it all free and it now rests in our butler's pantry.

And finally, in keeping with the Easterly and nostalgic theme, I will leave you with a poem I wrote while I was working on my thesis that I am certain would make Georgia Lee proud.

Questions before Easter service, 1980

 

Sunday morning

Nanny and I

wake up with Pop

at five. How do you want

your eggs, Cricket?

He wipes oily hands across Nanny’s apron

wrapped around his waist.

He looks dainty,

but I dare not laugh.

Go, and let Mother help you get dressed.   

 

That’s what he always called Nanny

and I wanted to ask him why

they slept in separate rooms,

but I didn’t.  

 

In white stocking feet, I wander

down the hall,

pause with my reflection

in Nanny’s antique tea service splayed

on the buffet. I will wear rouge today for Jesus.

 

The bathroom was thick

with talc and steam as I poked

Nanny’s bare shoulder and shook the skin

under her arm.

That made her mad.

Stop, child. Brush your teeth.

 

Glaring at me through the lighted mirror,

I stared at her sagging breasts and felt my own,

just pink, barely raised flesh.

At the sink, Nanny’s teeth

bobbed in the juice glass

as she rubbed cold cream in circles

across her cheeks.

 

What if I don’t believe in God?

Nanny said we’d be late

for Sunday School

and did I want

her to cut a switch

from the yard to whip

me with for questioning our lord?

Guess not.

 

 

Love,

kh