The Hillhouse

As I pounded the dripping kitchen sink faucet off with a hammer for the umpteenth time tonight, it occurred to me. One day this is precisely the sort of thing we will be nostalgic for. The same faucet  – the one that has me cursing and sighing and wringing my hands over all the many other things it reminds me of which I cannot afford to have fixed properly either – this faucet and so many other loose ends all about our household (that alternately stress and amuse us) are very likely the things we’ll look back upon with tenderness after they have long been fixed and the problems forgotten.

These are the times will make us smile someday: This time, right now. When the rooster lives in the house with us at night and wakes us at 6:15 on the nose every morning, the days when tuba lessons are still such a novel joy, the days of expansive Sunday afternoons flying RC aircraft with friends who are just as crazy for aviation as we, the days when saying goodnight to the chickens can still take a half an hour easy, the days when mom still plays music at school and is still part of her son’s life and he is thankfully still happy for it, the days when the great field outside our window is still dark at night.The days when grandma is just next door, and we can pop in anytime she’s home. The time when things still feel just about as innocent as they did when my son was still very small. You see, we’re not too far away from them to at least remember how it feels. How if feels to have a home, a life, and a few simple hobbies, some animals and a few instruments to play. We know the importance of all this stuff. It’s our bottom line, really.

These are those days still; the days when our house needs a long list of repairs far beyond our budget, the days when life is cluttered, busy, full of hiccups, false starts and sometimes even sudden unexpected runs of good luck. The days when we’re poor, but the magic always follows us and makes up for the rest. These were the days.