growing up, we were always on the go. my mum's job would lead to a huge pay bump and three weeks later my dad and i would cram our lives onto a van and pile in the car to come after her with the rifle, pets, plants and poisons.
my family, we can jump house at the drop of a hat.
which is ironic given we are, at the moment, all of us standing remarkably, uncharacteristically, unbelieveably still.
and yet, still this need is there. this intrinsic drive to stay on the run, to shuffle the deck.
what that boils down to these days is the "let's redo the whole house so it feels like we've moved when really we're just killing time" philosophy of interior design that i've always thought uniquely my own. turns out, that's a family trait.
this is why my mum documents the progress of the bedroom wall demolition with daily email blasts and hourly facebook updates that read like desperate cries for help. it is why there has been a construction crew at work somewhere in my parent's house every time i have been home since april 2002.
we do these things, i would argue, precisely because we are a rootless, restless lot. my parents see it differently.
over the years they have cycled through a catalog of reasons, all of which seemed reasonable enough. that is until my father, in the midst of the target flip-flop aisle, justified the months-long overhauling of the master bathroom (a project cushioned awkwardly between the just completed months-long overhauling of the kitchen and the soon to be embarked upon months-long overhauling of the downstairs bath) by saying to me, "well, no pressure, but you know we're doing all of this for you so you can be married from home."