Home Fires

 

My parents are getting divorced.

 

Now, before I go any further, I’m not looking to throw myself a pity party here. I mean, I’m twenty-three. I had a relatively drama-free, two-parent childhood. I have functional relationships, and very few lasting scars. It could be so, so much worse.

 

Still, they’re my parents. It doesn’t tickle. And it’s messed with my understanding of what my family is, of where I come from. My concept of home is shifting, and the idea of the holidays creeping closer fills me with a kind of discomfort I’ve never experienced.

 

The best I have been able to do is remember that my tribe extends way beyond the four people in the photograph on my desk, that even when I feel like I’m losing my footing I have built myself a web, Charlotte-style, to catch me on the way down: there are friends from high school who have loved me through innumerable bad clothing choices and all manner of adolescent meanness, and soul sisters from college who are scattered across the country but rooted deeply in my spine. The Lost Boys I lived with after I left the dorms never fail to make me smile, nor do the giggling girls from every job I’ve ever had. And of course there is Leprechaun’s family, the huge hollering clan of them, who write and call and send boxes full of Minute Rice and mayonnaise, because you never know when you’re going to run out of things like that.

 

As the fall creeps in—as it gets darker and crisper and the boats start to disappear from the harbor—I want to gather them around me. I want to bake them pies. I want to start traditions of my own so that the next time something shakes me like this (and something will shake me; that’s the nature of somethings) I’ll be ready.

 

Here’s how I’m building my home—and my web—this season:

 

1. Cranking up the oven. I wasn’t kidding about the pies. For me, nothing says autumn like comfort food, and I’m looking to keep my kitchen smelling delicious. On the agenda are pumpkin bread, all manner of roasts, and maybe a casserole or two. I’m trying to keep our food supply as local as possible, so I’ll keep hunting the farmer’s market until it shuts down at the end of November.

 

2. Opening my doors. We had a constant stream of visitors for much of the summer—the roof deck makes for easy entertaining. Now that it’s getting too cold to use it, I’m looking for some creative alternatives. I’m a huge fan of potlucks, and I’ve got some ideas for a Halloween costume party, as well as a sort of alternative Thanksgiving—more on that as we get closer.

 

3. Getting out of town. Frankly, nothing makes me want to throw my energy into cultivating my home like leaving it for awhile. I’ve got plans to see friends all over the place this autumn, trips to Philadelphia and New York and Michigan, if I’m lucky. Leprechaun and I have a vacation in the works, too, and I can already tell this season is going to fly.

 

4. Making a clean sweep. Before I go ahead and batten down the hatches, it’s important to me that I’m only sharing this space with stuff I absolutely can’t live without. I’ll be going through my summer clothes before I store them, selling off some old books, and generally giving this place a good scrub.

 

So that’s what’s cooking around here for the next few weeks. What’s on your agenda for the fall?