June Recap

 

 

In light of the dearth of postings, you may surmise June has been quite the busy month. And you’d be surmising correctly. A lot’s been going on down here at Chez Hopper south-of-the-border (well, south of the Mason-Dixon line, if said line stretched to the midpoint of the United States). Some blog-worthy stuff, some stuff that’s too personal for the semi-anonymity being thrown around here, and some stuff I don’t even want to commit to the electronic page.

 

One thing’s for sure: we’ve been on the go somewhat constantly. Little One, elementary school teacher-in-training, has been working full time at a pre-school / summer camp, going crazy each day with different themes (movie day, wacky water fun day, bake bread day, etc.) managing a class of around 25 five- to nine-year-olds. To get to her job, though, she needs my car, which leaves me with no wheels. So I have to be dropped off and picked up from my place of business three days a week, and to this soul who loves regularity, that’s often stressfully unpredictable. I normally clock out at 4, and being picked up at as early as 3:15 or as late as 6:30 is not an uncommon occurrence.

 

Patch had a week of Yearbook Camp, but that only meant we dropped her off at the high school and picked her up in the early evening. They bussed all the high school yearbook students (we have something like eleven high schools in our own monster-sized town) to one of the local community colleges where they all learned the creative and marketing aspects of yearbooking, brainstorming, playing games and winning prizes, and socializing.

 

The Mrs. has been fairly solitary, only leaving on one short business trip down to Austin for three days. But she’s been busy and stressed as ever. Me, I’ve taken to working on the exterior of my home. Each weekend I’m mowing, cutting shrubbery, mulching, keeping the encroaching weeds at bay with Roundup, filling cracks in the ground and bunny holes with dirt, etc. I have a huge gardening hat (given to me by Patch on my last birthday) which keeps the anvil of the sun off my face and neck, but the mosquitos have been feasting on me, which can be quite unpleasant. Everything down in Texas is bigger, even the mosquito bites.

 

Speaking of gifts given to me, I had a great Father’s Day two weeks ago. The ladies treated me to a juicy steak, with sides of asparagus and home-made macaroni and cheese. Little One bought me a book Constantine and the Conversion of Europe (which I read the following week) and Patch got me L’Enfance du Christ, a double-album oratorio by the composer Hector Berlioz (my record collection is now up to 49). And to top it all off, we four watched Titan: The OceanGate Submersible Disaster, something I’ve been into off-and-on since following it closely in real-time Father’s Day weekend in 2023.

 

More importantly, my daily background radiation of existential dread has been shouting and gesticulating and doing angry cartwheels louder and louder, until I could no longer shut it out. While Little One and the Mrs. and, to a lesser extent, Patch, are all thriving down here, I have yet to hit my stride. The job is meaningless to me, a dead-end that merely pays the mortgage and some groceries. I have not connected with anything or anyone (not that I’m a connector by nature), but the girls are becoming adults and making strides to move out and start their own lives, and I’m a little frightened by the aspect of not having them around on an everyday basis, as they’ve been for the last 15, 20 years. Even the dog is getting older, having just surpassed the Mrs. in the dog/human year ratio and rapidly catching up to, and soon to pass, me.

 

So I decided to devote some time to finding meaning. Sounds suspiciously hippy, and I’m naturally suspicious of anything hippy. But as a first step I got some books and promised myself to do the exercises in ’em, which ultimately revealed nothing new to me. Though, to be fair, I haven’t finished everything I got. I suffer from a lot of psychological hangups, some innate and some from environmental causes, and even if I were to move past them, there’s always the financial vise of debt and obligation, as well as familial and social expectations, and all these and more conspire to keep me locked in unfulfilling routine. Not sure how to break out, but I have been giving it my strongest effort since moving down here to Texas four years ago. 

 

What does the immediate future hold?

 

Well, I took today off from work to take care of a few things, and I have a three-day remote week ahead. Then another three-day weekend as we celebrate the Fourth. The wife and girls are flying up to Pennsylvania for 10 days two weeks into July, as part of a vacation / college scouting trip for my youngest. The Mrs. will be doing a lot of driving, the farthest being a trip to a college in Buffalo that Patch is interested in. They’ve never seen Niagara Falls, so at least something positive will come of that if the school fails to check all the boxes. Me, I’m staying home with Charlie. The $750 round-trip airline ticket for me plus the $600 dogsitting charge will offset the cost of a rental car. I’ll be working and walking the dog, but at least I can watch a few science fiction flicks and feast on some Hawaiian pizza while dueling with that cartwheeling existential angst.

 

That’s the tip of the iceberg here. June, on the whole you were okay. Had better months, but had worse too. Now get outta here, and let’s get on with summer.