In the middle of the street.
Is filled to the brim, and has been all week. It’s safe to say it’s been taken over. By my husbands family, and they are so different from me, us, my people.
I think I am getting used to it though. There has been a tension that reverbed in the air like when you turn a stereo up full blast but nothing is playing, in the past. They don’t do “guests”, they kinda take over. So between his 2 kids, his 2 parents, I am hiding up here. Writing.
They kinda move in and take over when they come. And they are very very nice, but it sometimes feels like being mowed over by a very nice tractor. One that changes the oil in your car, unloads your dishwasher, does your grocery shopping and says they are going to take you out to dinner when dinner is almost prepared. So my job is just to be ok with it. J knows I want to hide. I am glad they are only here for 3 days or so. That’s about all I can really handle before I want to reclaim my territory. I am a very big hospitality person, but I don’t get a chance here. They kinda move in, take over. All I can do is smile, make mental notes about how this is how it is, smile some more and resist the temptation to hide and wait for it to be over.