Building

We’ve had our first stick-to-the ground snow.  Often, the first real snow of the year is strikingly beautiful, sitting decoratively on branches and the last of the autumn flowers.  This snow, not so much.  There was enough to need shoveling, and that’s about it.  Children, however, think of any amount of snow as raw material for their building requirements.

     One little fellow who lives near us set about some earnest work with his kiddie-size snow shovel.  He was shoveling the grass on the court island, and doing a fine job of it as far as we could see.  Why he was shoveling the grass wasn’t immediately clear, but children are interesting that way.  As the dog and I walked past his house the following day, all became clear.  He’d wanted to build a snow fort, and the supply of snow in his yard proved inadequate to the task.  So he supplemented it with snow from the court island, using a saucer sled to transport it to the job site.  Alas, even that much snow only got him a good start on a fort.  Maybe the next snowfall will deliver enough for him to realize his plans.

     The dog and I continued around the corner to find that some other children had made excellent use of what snow there was.  They’d built two really short snowpeople.  Their creations were scarcely more than elevated faces, really.  Stick arms and legs lay in the snow beside and in front of them.  The snowpeople had happy expressions and were fully decked out in seasonal apparel and bling.  Artless, beguiling, and as cheerful as children at first snow.

     CoVid wrought a lasting change in neighborhood sidewalk etiquette.  If I’m out walking the dog and see someone coming toward us on the sidewalk, either they are I will step out into the street or cross the street to avoid the close contact.  We don’t talk about it; we just do it.  One day this week was breezy enough that I’d flipped up my hood, which is capacious enough to go right over one of my winter hats, pom-pom and all.  Absent a hat, it hangs low over my eyebrows, as it was doing that day.  I’d seen a lady approaching us, and moved out into the street.  I glanced up again just as she glanced up again, and we found that we’d both moved out into the street.  Whereupon, we both burst out laughing.

     Some years back, our daughter came across a drawing of a difference between introverts and extroverts.  The introvert, in a casual encounter, loses energy.  The drawing shows energy arrows going out from the introvert.  The extrovert, by contrast, derives energy from such an encounter; the energy arrows go in toward the extrovert.  I thought of that illustration when the lady and I laughed together, because it felt like energy arrows were flowing in toward me.  Neighborhoods are built on such pleasantries.

     Jack and B.J. made it in for Thanksgiving.  Hurray!  It’s been a long time since we’ve had them near.  They’re anxious and excited these days, as they’ve put in an offer on their first house.  More than that, the offer’s been accepted.  All that’s left now is the inspection, which they will happen shortly.  The house is a couple hours from where they live now, but another lasting effect of CoVid is working remotely.  Their plan is for their remote to become a little more so.

     Judging from their photographs, the house they hope to acquire is a great old place.  Built in 1912, it sits on an acre of land, along a watercourse known as Murderers Creek, although they joke that they plan to change the name to B.J.’s Brook.  It’s a two-story with full attic and basement and some nice Victorian touches, including the original hardwood floors.  It’s in turnkey condition, but Jack and B.J. are already lining up projects they’d like to do over time.

      It’s in a small town in upstate New York, in easy walking distance of both a coffee shop and a craft brewery.  Even better, they say, is that the coffee shop has breakfast burritos; the prospective homeowners plan to do their part to help it stay in business.  Best of all, the town sits right on the Hudson.  They’ll be able to put their kayaks in the water from the town’s kayak dock and, in fact, keep their boats on the kayak ramps by that dock.  A whole new world awaits them after years in New York City.  Here’s hoping the house inspection reveals nothing catastrophic and our nephews can start the home-owning adventure soon.

25 November 2022