Life on Parade

The story. We all have one. Sometimes if we're lucky it's a novel full of infamous characters, adventures, loves, and an occasional pirate or two. When I was a little girl, my mother's best friend lived in an old victorian home in Chesterton, Indiana that always smelled of lavender. She had a daughter a few years older than me (the big sister I never had) and her story ended when she was just thirteen years old.

Just ask people what their stories are, and nine times out of ten their answer will be "chaotic." I have been busy my entire life, the tornado whirling around Northborough. Today I taught five classes, graded 30 essays, skipped lunch, spent hours with a realtor, picked up my baby girl at daycare, drove to Worcester to meet an event planner to plan a prom a year away, made dinner, and did 3 loads of laundry. Busy doesn't begin to describe it.

Over the last few weeks I have begun my journey towards the American Dream. Owning a home. It has taken over my existence. My entire life I have looked forward to this event. Peeking into others' lives, feeling the energies of a house, looking for one that fits my soul, one that has a soul of its own. Today I walked into an old Victorian in Hopedale, MA. What a grand old lady. The house seemed to breathe a sigh of welcome. The walls were covered in period wallpaper, garish birds and flowers. There was a winding staircase and heavy wooden banister perfect for sliding down. The pantry was something out of a Martha Stewart magazine and should have been in a house on old Nantucket. The house had character. The character just happened to be a weary, time traveler. I wanted to be charmed, to imagine the lives of those before me, sewing daintily in the front parlor. I wanted to pretend I could live there, but what I saw was work...lots of work. The floors needed sanding, the wallpaper was peeling, the kitchen cabinets sagged, the floors tilted. I closed the door to the dream behind me.

I am too busy for this house. And nothing makes me sadder than ending a story before it has a chance to begin.