At Large in Ballard: The void
“Change was never one of your strong suits,” my former mother-in-law wrote to me by way of acknowledging my recent half-mile Ballard relocation. Her words have always inspired a reverse psychology response in me. Within minutes of her email I went to the basement and sorted another box from the past, exercising my newfound ability to embrace change by recycling my 30 year-old college notebooks.
It seems that ever since last fall my life has been nothing but change, from the loss of the Seattle PI from the doorstep to a different doorstep.
There’s an Indonesian expression that became of book title, “When the World Was Steady.” I have been trying to find a sense of steadiness beneath my bare feet on these new to me (splintery) floors.
I’ve worked to find my footing while realizing I traded perhaps the only Ballard house with a dry basement for a more traditional model with built-in stream.
I still dream of my old block, dreaming myself back into my old house, popping out to chat while still in my bathrobe. Then the garden here started to pop and change seemed wonderful.