I turned my subaru into our driveway this afternoon, all heart-full, happy, stinky, windblown. Six wonderful days on the road, camping with my kids, it felt GOOD to be home. Andy was standing on the second-story deck smiling down, all post-bike ride disheveled. The scratchy car stereo played I Love Mud for the 806th time, Margot shrieked and hurriedly unbuckled because she saw our neighbor. Ruby had just fallen asleep.
“Phoebe! I’m home!” Margot yelled as she tumbled from the still-rolling car.
“Oh Margot!!!”
A long, dramatic embrace ensued. The kind afforded by single digit youth, when any amount of time longer than one hour might as well seal a different fate all together.
I wrestled enough bags upstairs to feel unlazy; I did my best to avoid any immediate return to the vehicle. I can delay unloading, unpacking like a champion. Actually, what I grabbed was my purse and my garage sale scores. Because, after 16 years with my foxy dude, I still show him my vintage jars, funky handmade wood boxes and embroidered linens like it’s his dream snow forecast. And he smiles like he truly gives a shit, staring at me in *that* way that he stares when we’ve been apart for six days or six hours.
Margot reminded and REreminded me that our other neighbor’s birthday party started in 20 minutes. She was jumping. All car doors open in the driveway, several objects lounging on asphalt. I plopped Ruby in bed, wrapped a gift and sent Margot with Phoebe and her mom to Gillian’s bowling party.
Andy and I uninterestedly talked about dinner in between real talk as cicadas began tuning their instruments. Alice shook her whole body into me grunting like a pig in a compost pile. I laid on the floor with her, especially noticing her soft silver cheeks. The cats joined in, vibrating and shedding and kneading into me. Chickens chirped on the deck. I learned all the new hens are now laying tiny, perfect, blue eggs.
I love my home.
Andy and Ruby went to fetch Margot and Phoebe from the birthday party while I sat idly and thought about dinner or unpacking or checking email/voicemail. A knock at the door. It was Cecil, my next-door neighbor. The guy who knows ALL about ancient rocks, fruit trees and berry foraging. He’s a mystery to me, like an onion. I thoroughly enjoy every single encounter for he is kind and generous and also quite mischievious and badass, always revealing nuggets of wisdom, strength and curiosity.
Today he brought me a bag of just-picked blackberries, swollen and midnight delicious. That was gift enough but the thing with Cecil is that there ALWAYS a great story. So I waited. I asked him about his day. And he asks me if I’ve heard about that kidnapping of that California girl. I had, barely, sadly.
“Well,” he continues. “I was at my blackberry pickin’ spot by Kooskia. I coulda picked 20 gallons a blackberries. There was that many. All huge and black just how you want to pick ’em. And I heard a BOOM and I thought yep, that’s definitely a gun shot. And then I heard six more. They were close. And I decided I was done pickin’ today. So then I come home and turn on the news and see that I was just right there where they shot that man. Right there. So glad that girl’s alright. You just never know. Sure glad to live where we live. Anyway, the ones that are all black are the best eatin’. The ones with the red edges are best for jammin’.”
“Unless a’ course you like bitter berries, which I do a lot.”
The kids came home in a sugar summer spun spin, grabbing blackberries by the fistful before joining the neighbor kids in the field for games of family and kick the pinecone before coming back for more blackberries, tripping over rogue camping gear in the kitchen, playing spontaneously constructed ballet-musicals. Dinner came together as it does. Like always, later than we’d (loosely) planned. We gathered around our table, cicadas in full song now. Andy plated just-picked food, Margot grabbed water, Ruby emerged with a proud fork bouquet and a lone tomato she ate like an apple, I smoothed the oilcloth on the outdoor table.
20 Comments
Nici,
Your writing today is as juicy, fat and promising as a ripe blackberry. Seriously – with that detail oozing, you took me to another world! (And I was wondering how you could possibly better my world by your story, because my world has cold air coming in from off the glacier, over the alps, down the river… but your story even topped that.)
Awesome & delicious writing,
Ali
Nici,
Your writing today is as juicy, delicious and promising as a ripe blackberry. It pulled me into your world utterly (and I was wondering how you could do that so powerfully, as my world has morning cold air coming in from the glacier, over the alps, down my river… and was already beautiful).
Awesome writing,
From Ali, in her Alps
(who tried to post this – or something like this a minute ago – but it disappeared – so do forgive if this shows up twice. PS I have the taste of blackberries in my mouth!)
Thank you for inspiring me to notice + cherish life.
I love how you write about your life. Sounds a lot like how I want mine too look in a few years. Love the commotion, energy and love you describe in your home. Thanks for writing!
Your writing makes me miss zoo town all that much more, my nice and nephews and the rest of my family. I so enjoy your energy. Thank you for sharing it with us.
damn, you’re good.
I’m droooooooooling over those berries, YUM.
I love how you wrote this post. It’s as if I was right there with you. Love the detail. Sounds so laid back and comfortable. Thanks for sharing.
I miss you! Can’t believe we live so close and it’s been so long…. soon!
soon! 🙂
WELCOME HOME! What a fun trip…you are so right great to get away & wonderful to return home to a place/people you love!
YOU have a way with words Burb!
xoxo
Hi Nici!
I’ve been reading your blog for several years and have yet to post. My mom and I chat about your life like some do the daily news.. Except our reading is consciously chosen and full of joyful positivity 🙂 -the best kind of news! Just waned to say what a beautifully written except this is. I feel eager anticipation to read your book! I am 28 and single and so often hold your writing in my minds eye as I visualize a future family of my own.
In love and light,
Hayley
Hi Hayley,
I really appreciate your words. Big ol’ smile on my face. Thanks.
with love,
Nici
love this post.
kooskia…know right where that is…been there many times.
not surprised they found the guy around there…
Love the way you paint the craziness of everyday life so beautifully! As it is! Thanks for the reminder that there is beauty in the madness!
I just love your photos. Sometimes when reading, I can’t wait and I skip all the way to the end just because I already know I am going to love them and they will inspire me, in some way, shape or form.
I’m sitting here at home in Oregon wishing I were in Montana. Couldn’t get the annual trip to Flathead up and running this year- husband is rafting the Middle Fork, BFF was supposed to fly in from DC to roadtrip it out with me but got the job interview of a lifetime, blah blah, no Montana for me. Sob.
But then you come along and take me RIGHT THERE to your moment. So thanks for the virtual vacation this morning. I needed that.
Blackberries are much easier to eat when you take out your dracula teeth. hehe
totes
I love it. You made what was sure to be mundane (coming home from a long trip and doing…nothing) come alive. You captured all those fleeting moments and semi-conscious times in the a day that make it a Day. Wow this was really good, inspiring!