Posts Tagged ‘home owner’

Unexpected Thank You

January 25, 2017

I got the sweetest text message from my employer when I got home from work.

She thanked me for putting up with the crazy kiddos and for making a delicious dinner.

Aw!

My pleasure.

And really, the kids are not crazy, kids never really are, but when they are sick they can be a little off and my little lady today was definitely off.

I was greeted by her sweet face at the door when I came in, she was home sick from school and we spent many hours hanging out on the couch, we cuddled, read stories, played cops and robbers at one point when she had some energy, horses and unicorns, dog picnic, and loads of stickers and coloring.

It was definitely a far fuller day then I have yet experienced and I think I got a little taste for what it will be like when the dad returns to work full-time.

He is in transition and has started back one day a week.

That day was today and I had a little a ha moment and a lot of gratitude for all the time I got to have yesterday to read.

I had brought my books and reader with me from my Couples Therapy class.

I had some high hopes.

They were pretty much left at the curb when I was greeted by my little friend at the door.

I was fine with it though and I really did have a lovely day and there is something nice about being needed and I felt helpful and useful and really appreciated by the family.

I really like them.

Such a nice thing.

The mom and I had a really sweet conversation today talking about my health insurance of all things.

She wanted to know how I was going to be affected by the recent political change and whether it would have an effect on my insurance.

I don’t know.

I suspect that I won’t know for a little while and I’m not going to worry about it.

I am going to focus on what I can do for the person in front of me, in the moment, in the here and in the now, to the best of my abilities.

But.

I did share that when I heard the news my first thought (I edited my version to my boss) was, “well fuck it, then I’m going to cheat on my taxes.”

I’m not, of course.

But that was my first thought.

I was and have been very taken with how much the parents, the mom especially, have treated me, engaged with me, worked with me, I feel like I am slowly, really going to be a part of the family.

I feel very embraced by them and very respected and that is just such a nice thing.

And it makes me want to do my job even better.

I find that when I am treated humanely and with kindness I will bend the fuck over to help out and do a good job.

I’m a little concerned about this, but not too much, I don’t think I’m going to lose myself in the job and I also have been encouraged to stop, rest, take breaks, drink tea.

I’m down with all of that.

Plus, they have been flexible with my school stuff.

Which feels like a super big thing.

Especially since I head to my first open house tomorrow night.

I have to leave work about 45 minutes early.

I’m gong to have to ask them to allow me some lenience in regards to doing that, leave work early, for the next couple  weeks on Wednesday.

Plus whenever I get called back to interview.

I am just going to have to suck it up and talk with the mom tomorrow.

Today was too busy, dad at work, mom out taking care of stuff, one sick kid at the house and dinner to cook was enough work for me.

Plus.

The baby.

Granted.

I haven’t done much with the baby yet.

Mom has got him and dad too.

It’s beautiful watching him grow.

He’s 3.5 weeks old.

Anyway.

I do have to have the conversation and if I can’t get out all the days that I need to, well, so be it.

I keep telling myself I won’t slip through the cracks, I am enough, I’ll get practicum placement and it will all be just fine.

REALLY.

It will.

I have not been taken this far to suddenly get dropped on my ass.

I am grateful that I did not understand how much work there was that had to be done.

I mean I might not have applied  to the program!

I did though and I’m doing well and I like what I am doing and I love that I will get to help others out as well as continue to grow and nurture myself.

It will be years before I make real money.

But I will be making triple, quadruple, maybe more, quite likely more, when I think about it with some honesty.

I don’t know what that’s going to look like.

But I have plans.

A year’s prudent reserve in savings.

Paying off my student loans.

But if you want to do that, feel free, just let me know and I’ll send you the information.

Heh.

Having a car.

Yes.

I am a scooter queen and a bicycle loving girl.

But man, sometimes I just want a car.

More travel, obviously.

And.

A house.

One in San Francisco.

I know.

I am crazy.

But.

I bet it will happen.

Sooner than I think too.

How?

Who knows, magic maybe, honestly I don’t need to know.

I will be fine if I don’t own a house, but it’s always been a dream of mine.

Ooh.

A retirement fund.

I know.

Sexy.

Right?

Old lady traveler on the move, you know it!

The journey is the point though and I don’t want to not be here in the present enjoying my small, sweet, cozy home, the music playing, the lamps glowing, candles flickering, the pictures and paintings and photographs on the walls.

I have a damn good life.

I do.

Grateful for all the things.

All the things.

And.

The.

Love.

Obviously.

That.

Always.

 

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An Unremitting Gift

November 22, 2013

Grace.

I have been graced.

I was thinking as I held her little paw in mine, how lovely to walk these streets of San Francisco with my small charge in pigtails, crunching the leaves and feeling the sun on my face.

Grateful, too, that the rains eased off today.

I got to everywhere I needed to go dry.

That is a huge gift.

We walked around Alamo Square park, climbing the hill not once but twice.

Our first visit to the park was short as it was still quite wet after the last two days of wet weather.  But later, in the late afternoon, the park had dried and much sliding was to be had.

I admit I was walking a lot today partially to wear down my charge and guarantee a long nap.

Partially because the neighborhood is so lovely and I wanted to explore it, look upon the houses, see the colorful Victorian ladies marching up and down the hills with their gay frocks and bright ribbons of gold leaf and purple scrolls.

I actually think the Painted Ladies are way over rated and indulged myself walking about the other blocks that encircle the neighborhood gazing upon this one there and that one here, the glorious houses in along the streets.

I am going to own a house one day.

In San Francisco.

I hear you scoffing.

Scoff away, Scoffer McScofferson, scoff.

I will.

I don’t know how or where or why, I just know that this here is home.

I am lucky to call this home, this my city by the Bay, my lover, my secret fetching mistress who bestows windy kisses on me and gifts me with views I did not even know existed.

From one side of Alamo Square you get the spread of downtown, the Civic Center, the Bank of America Pyramid, the Bay Bridge.

Then walk around to the other side and gaze over to UCSF and its steeples and there off in the distance the Golden Gate Bridge, or to another side and there is the Haight and Cole Valley and Twin Peaks rising majestically in the near distance bestowing a knowing benevolence upon the city when not shrouded in fog.

In between the duo trips to the park we also walked around the NOPA neighborhood.

I popped us into BiRite and my charge nibbled on sample brioche bread and I bought a couple of Taylor Gold pears from Frog Hollow Farms, an heirloom varietal apple, organic of course, please, and some Stumptown Holler Mountain coffee, blessed again with good food, good coffee, good company.

We then swung into the Mill, scented with hot fresh backed loaves of bread and the alluring smell of caffeine.

I got an Americano from Four Barrel roasters and we walked some more.

I took pictures of her.

Handprint

Hand Print

Her little pigtails golden antennae of love sprouting from her head.

Her little smile a delight.

This could be our last week together.

I told her mom today I had to bring my rates up.

She completely understood, but has to discuss it with the husband and I may not have much work with them left.

They are the least well off of my clients and I said I understood, that I would of course continue at my normal rate for this week and please let me know by next week what you decide.

They may just keep me through the New Year as it stands.

Either way, it’s been a gift to hang out with their little girl.

Any child really, it is a gift, but I feel lucky to have had the interactions with her that I have gotten to have.

Poor doll has been getting over a cold and sounds like Sophia Loren has taken over her voice box after a long boozy night smoking cigarettes in after hours clubs.

Husky, sweet, and congested.

We read her teddy bear stories.

“ALL THE HIPPOS GO BERSERK!”

And had a great lunch together.

I felt at ease having said what I needed to say and having also let go of the results of the conversation.

The difference for them is one day a week they would pay an extra $16.

I don’t need to point that out to them.

If they are concerned, they are concerned.

Not my money, not my budget, not my business.

What a relief.

I thought that again as I sat in the Crepevine at 7th and Irving having a large salad as a family across the way had their dinner–a large “comfort food” platter of deep-fried goodies (fyi, the comfort food is not my wording, it is listed that way on the menu) with extra ranch and blue cheese dressing to dip it in.

Fried mushrooms.

Fried wings.

Fried onion rings.

Fried french fries.

You know, comfort food, rolled in flour and deep fat fried.

Mom had a couple of glasses of red wine, mom is also a mom in bloom again, six, seven months along I would hazard, and grandma chucked back a couple of glasses when the other mom was not paying attention, outside the restaurant on her phone while her child played choo choo train in the middle of the restaurant barefoot.

I don’t remember exactly when it dawned on me, but dawn it did, that I did not have any judgements about the scene in front of me.

It was none of my business, nor my place to judge.

I mean, I would not handle myself that way and I would do things a lot differently, but that is just my choice at this point in my life.

How lucky that child to have a mother, a grandmother, a large plate of food, a restaurant to run around in.

I sat, ate my salad and thought, holy shit, I might be growing up.

I was not involved, annoyed, or anything, other than present.

I enjoyed my salad and when it was done finished my water and got up to go next door to grab a cup of tea before going to further my connections with my fellows.

This whole day, this experience of being in San Francisco, the realization, again, that I am privileged to live here, really hit me.

I also was able to get in a long meditation while the napping helped and that certainly did not hurt my outlook on the day.

I could have sung with joy on my bicycle ride home.

The smell of the air.

The sea ahead of me.

Grace.

Pure and simple.

Grace.

My livf.

An unremitting gift.

One in which I have no intention of giving back.

Only playing it forward.

Saying thank you at the end of my night, crawling into my warm bed with soft sheets and big pillows, thank you for this life, this gift.

This grace.

Thank you.

Over and over and over agin.


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