Some Things Never Change

60: (July 2025)

Some things never change—and that’s a good thing! There are things I love doing and people I love doing those things with, and those have remained constant in my life. Gardening, making music, cooking, spending time at home puttering around, and most of all, just being around my family and friends.

Now that I am retired (two years and counting), I am doing more of all those things. An extra pleasure is that my niece Alex moved into the room above our garage a few months ago. It is a gift to be able to spend day-to-day time with her, getting to know her more deeply as an adult. Admirably, she has slipped right into our lifestyle with ease, gamely assimilating into our way of life.

She has jumped in to try our primarily vegan diet, which has been great fun because Alex enjoys cooking. We plan menus together and have tried many recipes with the new energy she brings to the kitchen. Alex was also interested in seeing what planting and tending to a vegetable garden is all about. I’m not sure it’s her favorite activity now (in fact, I’m sure it’s not!), but she valiantly helps weed and harvest, and it feels almost surreal to have her working the rows with me. Life conspired to bring her from Washington, D.C. to our quiet corner of New England, thanks to the fact that Alex can work remotely for her nonprofit job advocating for women’s rights.

The best part of this living arrangement is that Alex and I are able to make more music together. She has a beautiful singing voice that she has barely used as an adult, but no more! We have been doing blues, pop, and some of my original compositions in local open mics, and are working on writing and performing children’s songs together. I plan to make videos of these songs and post them on YouTube; stay tuned.

Needless to say, what an incredible joy all this is for me. Who knew this was in store? I know Alex’s time with us is not a permanent thing, but while she is here, I am enjoying every precious moment. Oh, and as a bonus, she has a dog. We have a canine in the house again! 🙂

40: (July 2005)

I spent last week making hand-sewn sock monkeys, knitting scarves, and designing lavender sachet pillows. My niece was visiting from out of state, sandwiched between a trip to Italy with her father the week before, and two weeks in Aruba shortly after. This was her fourth year spending “girl week” with my two daughters and me. It is a time we cherish.

Although it is tempting to take my niece places to “show her a good time,” what she wants is to stay put, in my backyard. So we take her cue, keep it slow, and hang around making crafts, playing with our animals, and sharing meals with friends. And we make music. My niece has a grown-up singing voice in an 11-year-old body, and she and my daughters sing songs that I write, which is an indescribable delight for me. Most of the nights are spent sleeping outdoors, telling stories, and staying up way too late.

My daughters see their cousin only a couple of times a year. But there is a special closeness between them. She is welcomed as a sister.

Toward the end of the week, we went to a dairy farm in our town that sells its own ice cream, as well as raw wool, waiting to be spun. My younger daughter had been teaching herself to spin with a drop spindle, which my niece was also eager to learn. The farmer invited the girls to come into the barn to see the newborn calves and then invited us to stop into their fiber studio at the other end of the farm, where his daughter-in-law gave us a little tour of the wool being processed on their machinery. When we got in the car to drive home, my niece expounded on how much she liked our town and way of life. I reflected to myself on how all the things we had done during the week were just simple pleasures, most of them free. And they had woven the fabric of our lives a little closer, one summer day at a time.

There were occasional moments when the things I had put off for the week crowded into my head, and I felt anxious thinking of the undone chores that were piling up. But I tried to push these thoughts away as quickly as they arose. There were sock monkeys waiting to be created. And that is an opportunity of a lifetime.

60-40:

I would never have guessed 20 years ago that Alex would be living in our home one day. Life can hold marvelous surprises! The strands of our lives continue to be woven, both figuratively and literally; my daughter Bridget still spins wool and designs her own knitwear now. The tapestry of our lives is a work in progress.

I recently came across a cassette tape I made when Alex was visiting at the time I wrote the essay above. What fun to hear her 11-year-old voice again with my two young daughters singing a song I wrote called “Travel Light.” Here is a snippet of it: