Saturday, September 5, 2009

Home on the range

I'm at the lake. This is my one real summer excursion. I'm at the Dude's parents' place, his dad and stepmom. There is going to be a horseshoe tournament this weekend, and Dude's stepbrother and his fiancee and two of their friends are also here. They're older than the Dude and I, married, homeowners and such. Another event happening this weekend is Drink-All-Day Day. I'm missing this in Toronto to be at Bob's Lake to play horseshoes with the Dude's family and his parents' cottage friends.

This is an annual tradition, this tournament. So is Drink-All-Day Day. They both fall on the same weekend each year. I will presumably miss Drink-All-Day Day for the rest of the foreseeable future. Horseshoes is the direction my Labour Days are going.

I'm the youngest person in this house right now. Not long ago, the other four non-senior adults huddled over a laptop to look at couches on the internet. The married couple discussed buying cedars for their home. After dinner, there was wedding planning discussion. Last night over the campfire they discussed home renovations.

I've been observing quietly, having nothing much to contribute to these conversations. It's been something to think about for me. What do I normally talk about with my friends? What do we discuss together? Honestly, I couldn't tell you. I suppose friends just have a rapport with one another, and conversation follows. Without that rapport, topics jump out at you, and you can sit amidst it and watch.

I do know, though, that home ownership is something that has come up with great interest. My pal owns a condo. My best friend owns her own home. This is talked about and I truly care. Maybe the difference is age. My late-20-something friends who own property own it as a stepping stone and it's still new. The mid-30 crowd own property as their permanent home. It's a different stage of life.

Maybe it just scares me a little.

Owning a home is a dream of mine and I am overwhelmed by the prospect, and nervous on the other hand that it may never come to fruition. I guess I'm afraid of growing up.


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