Thanks MossMan!

Tonight I was lucky enough to once again spend the evening in the presence of EB and Ianite, this time joined by the rest of their family and another friend.

Watching Ian play yesterday and today, I feel sad realizing that I can no longer entertain myself for an entire afternoon by waving around a brochure, banging a pan (luckily I am so fanatic about my Amish bread that I already acquired a loaf pan from some donations lying around so that Ian had something to bang during his brief stay in my room...) or chewing on a wooden spatula.

It reminds me of a time at work when LaMexicana and NurseYoungSuperStar were watching their puppies frolic on the floor, and NurseYoungSuperStar commented to LaMexicana--"Let's roll around on the floor and bite at each other's necks!" a comment that made us all feel a bit sad because it made us realize that we have lost the capacity to have fun anywhere, anytime, just by playing, the way puppies do-- in their ability to attain pure, uncomplicated enjoyment of the moment, animals often surpass us humans. It is a similar phenomenon with Ian (and children in general, like puppies)-- he has the ability to have fun and adventures exploring objects (mainly cooking utensils and pans it seems) that no longer hold much novelty for me.

I went to Syracuse ostensibly to collect some more of the boxes that I shipped there from San Jose. (Of course I really went to see EB and Ian again, the boxes could wait:)

I brought back five boxes, two of which were too heavy for me to carry (I've got to get rid of more paper...). That is where MossMan came in to save the day (or night as it may be). He helped me unload all the boxes at the Ithaca end. This is a guy I've never met before, but on the strength of the connection through EB's brother CobHouseBuilder and his friend ExperimentalCookingDaycareWonderwoman, Mossman came to help me out. A big shout out from the internet Mossman, CobHouseBuilder and ExperimentalCookingDaycareWonderwoman. I couldn't have done it without you.

It was a fun evening, with only a few real moments of nostalgia. Seeing Ian in the tarantula shirt that I bought for him on one of my thrift store expeditions to the Salvation Army in Gilroy with SelfSustainableNurse and PK made me sad. So did seeing Ian's pajamas, which I purchased at a thrift store in Menlo Park that Dr Perceptive recommended to me this fall. It's funny that the little reminders of home are in Ian's clothes-- I remember buying them so clearly, the day, who I was with, the deadline of leaving hanging over my head. And now, here, on the other side, those same clothes appear in a completely different setting, linking me back to my old home.