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SCATTERED, SMOTHERED AND COVEREDWhat a summer this has been so far. To list it in pure events, my brother was married July 3, my sister July 17, and my entire family of 9 children, 4 spouses and 11 grandchildren were, for the most part, in and around the New York area for a month. In the middle of this, we cleaned out the Pulick childhood home to make it ready for renters this fall, I worked my regular hours and we had at least 15 gigs. With all the details swirling around in my mind these days I feel like a schizophrenic on crack. The weddings were beautiful but couldn’t have been more different from each other. My brother was married in a huge church in Queens and had the reception in our backyard, while my sister was married in a tiny church in a small town on the east end of Long Island and had the reception at the local Polish Hall. Steve, a very involved Catholic who met his wife when he was living in a rectory trying to decide whether or not he wanted to be a priest (guess we know which was THAT went), had every clergy person who has ever meant anything to him on the altar, which numbered about 13. Hope had a portly little Methodist minister who sort of came with the place since she was unable to marry in the Catholic Church because of her husband’s previous marrieage. What both weddings had in common is their magnetic-like draw for completely insane extended family. You know, the fascist uncle who drops numerous anti-French comments around my sister, her French husband and French children, the nutso Fundamentalist uncle whose small children skip around singing songs from Bible camp, and of course, my personal favorite, the 44 year old cousin who lives alone with her father and has started calling him by his first name and picking out his ties. Anyway, they were all out in full force, for not just one but TWO complete weekends, and the way-out-of-towners were with us for 3 whole weeks. As the weddings winded down, we all started to gear up for the next task: making the old Pulick house theoretically ready for transfer of ownership from the parents to the kids and literally ready for renters. The process actually went much more smoothly than I had anticipated, but I was literally yo-yoing back and forth between the city and Long Island several times each week and trying to squeeze my poor clients in between trips. What has sustained me through all has been this thought: Tomorrow, I embark on a 10 day road trip with my better half that will bring us from Baltimore to Chicago to Arkansas and back to New York. Never mind that the purposes of this trip are to attend 2 weddings and visit still MORE family, it’s a trip. At least I don’t have to work. What I am most looking forward to on this trip is the drive, because I know my husband Dave and I will have over 48 hours in a car with nothing to do but hang out. With things as crazy as they have been this summer, we have been like the proverbial ships in the night, and, poor guy, he’s ended up spending more time with my family than I have. Dave works part time as an architect; he typically telecommutes, but he sometimes has to go into the office, which is located in Easthampton. All the goings-on in my family were in Westhampton, which is a hell of a lot closer to Easthampton than Harlem, so Dave was the logical choice to be around to help. For the first few weeks I was jealous – he was working and helping, but he was getting to spend time with my nieces and nephews, golf with my dad and go to the beach with my sisters. By the last week, I was apologizing profusely at the start of each long distance conversation and Dave, a very mellow and kind guy, was half admitting to being “Pulick-ed out.” My family is great, but the one thing about them is they are all super analytical and everyone has an opinion that he is just certain will be enlightening for you. I think my dad and brother’s tirades against Michael Moore after Dave casually mentioned that he wanted to see his film was the final straw. He locked himself in the basement with his guitar for a few hours and everyone got the hint. That’s one loveable thing about my family – for its outward analysis and judgment, it is a very self aware unit, and even before I realized Dave needed a break from the Pulick’s, 3 different members of my family called and said “Get poor Davy out of here. He’s had enough.” Anyway, we’re poised and ready to take off tomorrow for Baltimore. Of course, we’re not packed and we have no directions to get anywhere, but I’m sure I’ll be pestering Dave all day with little messages: Most importantly, I am looking forward to what this trip symbolizes, which is the beginning of a return to my normal life. When I get back, I have pretty much an empty calendar, with the exception of one more wedding (which is actually the one I’ve been looking forward to the most). I can get back to my yoga, my meditation, my regular eating habits, and lazy nights on the couch with my fat hubby.
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