First Spring in the New Housefeatured

Even for months after moving into the new house no one could really believe it was truly ours and at times each of us would wander alone through the rooms and hallways and think with mystified wonder “This is our home.”

It had been completely redone by the previous owners and it had been done to a degree I had never seen outside of an issue of Architectural Digest. I used to clip out pictures from that magazine and now I was living in one.  This was not done by people whose only experience was watching too much HGTV–the love and skill in which this extensive project had been executed was evident in every room.  When I told Jerrid that I was so relieved he was there to guide us through this process–which is always cataclysmic no matter which side you’re on–he made a very insightful comment about how realty was more than that, they were moments of life in transitions and it was a duty to help guide them.  Some are happy, some are sad, some are new beginnings, some are endings.  This house was the result of a transition and when we realized this it gave the entire process an unexpected gravitas that made everyone in the family very respectful of the property that was now entrusted to us.

“This is serious,” proclaimed Gustav, always eager to make everyone abide by (his) rules.  Johann did not bicker with him.  “That we have been chosen for this property is like a sacred holiness,” he agreed as he rustled through his little suitcase for his buddhist incense sticks so he could bless the house.  “We need to be mindful and aware of the sanctity of this space.”

“YOU need to get the heck out of my way!” shouted Aurora as she barreled through the den rolling a dolly piled high with her trunks, suitcases and hat boxes.  Johann had to tuck and roll to keep from getting flattened as his things got scattered like a frame of bowling pins.

I’d known from the first moment I stepped into the master closet that Aurora and I were going to fight over the available space.  I sighed when I dragged in yet another box from the garage and saw a line of painter’s tape dividing the space perfectly in half.  To be fair, the way the room was designed it was pretty easy to split it down the middle but I wasn’t surprised to see her eyeing my side as we continued to unpack.

All parties agreed that no changes like paint colours, etc were needed to any of the rooms; it was more than perfect as is–even Aurora concurred.  I caught the meticulous spaniel with a magnifying glass inspecting the marble tile and brushed brass wall in the washroom off the kitchen with satisfaction.  “This is truly a washroom worthy of My Glorious Self,” she pronounced.  “It was like it was designed specifically for Me,” and her eyes scrunched shut with warm satisfaction.

When spring finally arrived everyone was excited–the first cold snap had arrived the week we’d moved in so we’d spent the past four months looking at the pool and its deck without being able to use it.  Unfortunately Jeremy posted a picture of our back yard on social media commenting on the peacefulness and all of a sudden people were informing us of  their plans to come over and use the pool on their schedules.

As an introvert who views home as a peaceful sanctuary to get away from people this violation of privacy and property irritated me but it downright enraged Aurora.  I saw three bags of Quikrete sitting by the laundry room door and Aurora on deck calmly reading a book.  I pointed to the bags with raised eyebrows and she flatly informed me of her plan to immediately fit all unannounced drop ins for concrete shoes.  “You want to barge into my home, to disturb my peace, to use my pool, without even acknowledging my Glorious Presence?  Have fun,” she snarled and made a shoving motion with her fluffy paws for emphasis.  “Help yourselves!”

“Don’t let anyone else hear you talk like that,” Gustav warned.  Jeremy was getting ready to take his high school marching band + entourage to an appearance in the St Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin.  The trip and its Gordian knot of logistics made him snarly and not at all his usual self; a cloud of doom surrounded him wherever he went and his bad mood infected whoever got in his way.  We all tried to avoid him the rare times he was home and woe betide any dachshund who got caught peeing in the new house.  Gustav frowned and rubbed his bottom as he remembered the result of his most recent act of treachery.  “His swats hurt, and he doesn’t even care if it’s raining out, we still can’t poop inside.”  “Bah,” scoffed Aurora but I noticed her later loading up the bags of concrete in a wheelbarrow and taking them to the shed.   Not even she was willing to poke the bear.

So when the dachshunds discovered the joys of bubble baths I’d gone sprinting across the house for a mop because they’d realized just what happens when you pour half a bottle of L’Occitane Lavender Foaming Bath in a tub with jets.  After the house had gone suspiciously silent I’d set down my book and gone looking for them, heard a thundering “YOU FOOLS” from the direction of the master bedroom and gasped when I saw bubbles creeping out from underneath the door.  When I opened it Bowie ran me over getting out of there.

I had to wade through bubbles up to my knees and it was mayhem–all I could see of dachshunds in the tub were two pairs of eyes blinking back at me with alarm amid a still growing mountain of bubbles, completely taken aback by this accidental treachery.   A furious Aurora was piling up towels like sandbags in the open doorway to our closet to prevent them from spreading in that direction and howling turn off the jets you idiots! Luck was on our side and we managed to get everything cleaned up and coax a trembling Bowie out from the laundry room before Jeremy got home.

One of my favourite things in the new house was the Jacuzzi tub and I had been taking baths in it every evening before bed.  I was grateful to have this new option to unwind after a busy day at work or a curling match.  But I didn’t realize that Aurora had also been using the tub on a regular basis at least once a day–or, if the mood struck her, twice a day.  This became a big problem considering it was a 42 gallon tub.  I’ve no idea how the water heater was able to keep up.  Even though we’d managed to conceal The Bubble Incident Jeremy still hit the ceiling when the inevitable water bills arrived.  He didn’t officially lay down any water rationing but again–cloud of doom, bad mood, general misery that was easily spread, etc etc.  The dachshunds gave him an even wider berth than usual and I started getting into the habit of taking showers instead.

My clinic closed for Spring Break.  My travel plans to Canada got canceled since we had hemorrhaged money during the move and Jeremy was leaving with the band for Ireland; so it was a week of staycation for pups and I.  The entire house breathed a sigh of relief when we got Jeremy out the door with his luggage and everything else he needed to take 500 people to Dublin.  The first few days were quiet, peaceful and enjoyable and everyone found activities to keep them occupied.  Gustav taught Bowie how to play Stardew Valley and Johann cheerfully puttered around cleaning up the flower beds from winter.  We all pitched in with moving boxes that were still in the garage and helped the new house feel a little more like home.

I was catching up on my reading and after returning from a visit to the Little Free Library I saw that Aurora was parked in front of the television.  She was watching an episode of Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team while shoveling pawfulls of popcorn into her mouth.  “What on earth?”  I asked.  “This doesn’t seem like something you would be interested in!”

“Don’t you bother me!” she commanded, not taking her eyes off the screen.  “This is the episode before they announce the full squad and they’re getting ready to call in the girls who are the very last to be cut.  It’s the best part of the whole season!”  I let her be.

Since I was no longer working in the public schools and have moved to the clinic my mental health had improved by leaps and bounds to the point where Jeremy said I was a completely different person and I could actually keep plants alive.  To keep us occupied with Jeremy was overseas I made a trip to the local plant nursery and the dachshunds, Bowie, Aurora and I surveyed the yard to decide where things should go.

Tasks were divided by skill/talent–the dachshunds would dig holes, Bowie would water the plants when they were established, and Aurora was to eliminate any and all pests–particularly all the bugs on the yucca plant.  She took care of it with a spray bottle of insecticide, a beekeeper’s outfit and predictable zeal (“DIE!“) and Gustav halfway dug up a butterfly bush on accident before Johann Sebastian noticed the regrowth around the base and that it was not in fact dead.  The red haired dachshund patted the bush back into place (“sorry about that, buddy”) while shooting Gustav the evil eye.

There was a gap between the fence and the pool that provided space for two pots and a French drain in between them.  I wasn’t able to carry them inside for the winter, covering them wasn’t enough and they didn’t come back.  I had selected two lovely tropicals to replace them but first I had to vacate the pots.

This was a problem because the root nest in each pot was so thick I just could not get it out.  I didn’t have much room to work with either because the distance between the garden wall and the edge of the pool was around two feet, maybe less.  The dachshunds/Bowie were forbidden to help since it was so close to the pool and Aurora naturally could not be bothered.  Finished with that day’s campaign of death to pests and with her beekeeper’s outfit put away she sat on a lounger observing the proceedings.

I had put on gardening gloves and gotten a good hold of the root nest with both hands, braced and pulled backwards with all my strength (which is not that much).  But when a gigantic spider crawled out of the plant matter I gasped and let go but I was still leaning back with all my weight and yes I fell backwards directly into the pool, you’re right.

Bowie and Johann was around the corner working at the potting bench and heard the splash; Gustav saw everything and even before my feet completely left the deck he had sprung into action, tearing across the yard and launching himself off the edge of the pool in one leap shrieking “Banzai!”  But he was in such a hurry to initiate a rescue that it didn’t click that pool equals water, the thing he hates most.  I surfaced just in time to see him scrabbling frantically in midair trying to defeat gravity by sheer panic.  Fortunately he hit the water right next to me so I was able to catch him before he sunk but he still got wet and wrapped himself around my face screaming “MAMA HALP!”

Johann Sebastian and Bowie came huffing and puffing up to the side frantically unrolling a garden hose to use as a rescue rope.  They tossed the nozzle end into the pool; it slapped me on top of the head.  It was a valiant effort but not really needed…it was a sports pool and only five feet deep.  All I had to do was stand up, walk to the edge, and hoist ourselves out.

Aurora was rolling holding her sides with tears streaming out of her eyes and howling with laughter after Bowie and Johann had rolled up the garden hose.  “Oh no.  Oh no.  Oh deary me.  Oh ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa.  You mustn’t do that again, you’ll do me a mischief.  Oh my goodness,” she hiccuped.  She sat up, caught her breath, attempted to keep a straight face but the sides of her mouth quirked and an explosive snicker escaped out of her nose.

We decided to leave those planters against the fence for Jeremy to deal with once he returned.  “Let’s kick this upstairs, call it a Mr. Parker Problem and leave it at that,” I said, sourly giving the bottom of one planter a kick.  “I think that’s enough gardening for the day.”  I was starting to shiver.  It was warm outside but that water was cold and with Jeremy already on the warpath regarding the utilities I didn’t have any plans to turn on the heater.  We retreated back inside the house.

As the rain continued throughout the week a dour gloominess eventually settled in interrupted by the delivery of another mysterious parcel.  Aurora had spent the spring AND summer “extras” budget on a Louis Vuitton Neverfull PM and once discovered the rest of us were angry at her.  When she triumphantly descended the stairs wearing said handbag along with a silk scarf we all stared daggers; her smile slipped.  “What’s your problem?” she demanded.

Gustav hissed “The problem is we’re bored and we can’t even go to the drive in movies because you spent all the money.”

Aurora admitted this may have been a mistake on her part but that we could make our own fun.  A grumbling Gustav countered, “I’m tired of watching television.  We can’t agree on what to watch anyway.”

“I can’t putter in the garden,” sighed Johann, looking wistfully out at the rain with his chin resting on his upturned paws.  “I don’t like to get wet, as everyone knows.  Nothing is worse than a cold, wet belly.”  He brightened as a thought occurred to him.  “Guess I’m pooping inside today!”

A low rumble of thunder answered instead of Bowie, who was hiding from the storm under the bed.

Mindlessly scrolling through social media was also a bad idea; posts of everyone else’s amazing spring break just amplified our lack of fun along with Jeremy’s occasional text messages about how awesome this trip was, all flights had gone as scheduled, how much free time everyone had, all the exploring there was to do, it was a blast, and what sure sounded like the complete opposite of our preview trip the previous summer.  “You know that if you HAD gone, it would have been a dumpster fire,” Aurora chortled gleefully, giving me a slap on the back with her fluffy paw.  “Congratulations!  You took one for the team so everyone else can have fun, those dachshund morons and I were going to be stuck at home regardless. What’s that thing you always say–oh yes.  You’re first chair of the whole band!”  I threw a pillow at her.

By the end of the week things had deteriorated to the point where the dachshunds and I stayed cocooned in bed, watching Star Trek and having DoorDash meals delivered.  But we all had to spring into action as Jeremy entered US airspace to set the house in order and pretend that we’d been keeping it clean the entire time.  Even though I thought we put in a good effort he was not fooled.

As the days went by the weather became more pleasant, and every day was a new surprise seeing what new plants bloomed or blossomed in the yard.  Johann Sebastian started to keep a journal every time a new plant announced itself.  Jeremy arranged the rest of the landscaping to his liking and purchased an outdoor conversation set.  “No dogs on the furniture,” he commanded.  Gustav immediately leaped on the couch, took a long and luxurious stretch that made his tongue curl out of his mouth, plopped down and smirked at him.

Despite dachshund disobedience the back yard became our favourite place to spend a summer evening.  Jeremy would grill something and we’d watch TV outside.  We did host several parties and a disapproving Aurora barricaded herself in her room during these occasions.

Summer went into fall, Starlight concerts turned into marching band practice and I was left with a lot of time on my hands.  It was easy for me to fall into a loop of clinic, watching TV for a few hours before bed, falling asleep, and then getting up the next day to start the whole thing over again.  While it was always nice to spend lots of time with the pups I missed having friends and started to make an effort to reach out on my days off.

During one of my Junior League meetings somehow the topic got onto the Miss Universe contest–specifically, the national costume competition.  I’d never been interested in pageants before but the sheer over the top design intrigued me.  When I mentioned this one of the other girls they were surprised and said they’d thought that would be right up my alley.  “You made your dress for the Gem Gala and it was amazing,” she reminded me.  “You’re always making things like that.  Besides, systems for adults have a different way of doing things.  Everyone thinks it’s like Toddlers and Tiaras but that’s just a very thin slice of the activity as a whole.  My sister and I did them for awhile, it was a lot of fun and everyone was really supportive of each other.”  “That’s all very nice,” I replied, “but if you think I’m going to prance across the stage in high heels and swimwear, you’re crazy.  I’m okay with evening gown, but the line has to be drawn somewhere.”  Aurora would also never allow it, I thought but did not say.  She’d be mortified.

But then I started thinking.  The Junior League wasn’t going to host any more Gem Galas after Diamond, something which had upset me.  I’d already had preliminary sketches ready for whatever jewel was picked next (Peridot was going to be lit).  It had been nice to have an event to make something for, and I’ve always loved evening dress.  Who knows, it might be fun.  So I started to look into the different systems with no intention of telling anyone until I had learned more.

But then I accidentally loaded the groceries in my bag with my pageant system notes and Johann Sebastian, on a search for cookies, found it and took it back to our bed to read while he snacked.  This was how I found the befuddled dachshund leafing through my notes and he asked me what I was doing.  I explained that I thought it would be fun, that I wanted to do some personal growth, and everyone I’d interacted with so far had been really nice and I’d already made new friends.  “Besides,” I added, “Can you imagine the look on Aurora’s face if I won the crown?”

He gave it some serious thought.  “I think you’re the very best just the way you are,” said Johann quietly.  “You don’t need validation from anyone else.  If it’s about being wonderful and great, well, I think you’d win, right now.”  He handed the notebook back to me.  “When I was alone in the pound, scared, my brother had been taken from me, and when you came to rescue me from the very end you were the most beautiful thing in the world.”  He gave me a hug.  “And you’ve always been beautiful to me and do good things in the world every day.  The most beautiful crowns are the ones that aren’t seen.”

“Bringing you home was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made,”  I told him.  “I wish I could be the person you think I am.”

“I sure wish you could be at home all the time,” he sighed.  “It’s the best whenever you come home, I’m so happy that I have to sing.  ‘Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo, here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right’…that’s why it’s my song, you’re my sun.  We don’t even have to be doing anything.  I’m just happy being with you.  That’s why I bust out of my crate all of the time.  I’m just trying to get back to you.”

I helped him arrange the blankets exactly the way he wanted so he could properly burrow.  “I don’t think it was so bad that you stayed home from Ireland,” he added.  “I didn’t want you to go anyway.  I was still happy we were all together and we had you for a whole uninterrupted week.”  “I’m glad I stayed home too,” I admitted.  “Even when we were bored, we were still together.”

“Yup, and we’ll always be together,” he said as he nosed his way under the blankets, turning and twisting himself around–unlike Gustav, he doesn’t burrow completely, his face always has to be uncovered so that he can watch me–“I think tomorrow we should bake cookies, snuggle, and watch Bob Ross paint some trees.  But for now”–he yawned–“I think I’ll tuck in and say goodnight.  I love you.”

I scratched him behind his ears and gave him a kiss on the head.  “I love you too.  You go on ahead.  I’m still wide awake.  I need to finish that teachings of Buddha book that you gave me, that was awhile back and I still haven’t finished it.”  He assured me there was no rush and closed his eyes.  Before I’d even finished the chapter I heard his gentle snoring; he was already fast asleep.

It was all very cozy until Jeremy and Gustav crashed in to get ready for bed, with Jeremy picking Gustav up and tossing him onto the bed shouting “Alley-oop!” but unfortunately Gustav landed smack on top of Johann and all hell broke loose.  Then there was the constant negotiations for mattress space and who was sleeping where and right when we finally got everyone settled in a dachshund farted on Jeremy’s shoulder.  He was so disgusted he kicked the blanket straight up in the air, demanding a reshuffling of the sleeping arrangements at the top of his lungs.  An insulted Gustav curled up behind my knees and Johann laid against my back, spine to spine.  Now that everyone was finally settled I reopened the Buddha book and my eyes landed on this text:

“When asked what was the biggest mistake we make in life the Buddha replied, ‘the biggest mistake is: you think you have time.'”