Activities vs. activity

The edifying nature of mundane house projects

Over 10 years ago when I was restless about NYC and craved more nature we made the fairly spontaneous and in-retrospect-financially-irresponsible-at-the-time-decision to purchase a small A-frame in the Hudson Valley. We knew nothing of home ownership, and had nothing left for home improvement, but we had more time (no kids), optimism, and will, and like many a young-person with that DIY spirit, time to go to a lot of yard sales, and a toolbox, we turned that house from something like this: 

Beige yellow is a terrible interior paint color

And nobody should carpet a screened-in porch

To something like this. '

For many years this house has been both a blessing and a curse, and in the last three years its required us to drill a 400-foot deep new well, replace the roof, invest in mold remediation, rip out and replace carpet, update the siding, replace the HVAC, waterproof and dig “French drains” in our basement to deal with flooding, exterminate a lot of carpenter bees, and most recently—lure squirrels who’d taken up residence in our gutters out with bars of Irish Spring soap and cloves of garlic. “Big house, big problems,” they say, and I am also here to tell you: “Small house, big problems.” 

Last week, during NYC public schools’ endless spring break, we went up to this house for a few days. The weather was glorious, and the forsythia were blooming. There were big, white daffodils out in front of our house that I’d forgotten were there. Every time we’re at this house we simultaneously aspire to take many hikes and visit our many favorite haunts and try the many new businesses that have opened since everyone in NYC decided to move to the Hudson Valley, while also needing to deal with every mundane project home ownership entails. 

So, what actually ends up is that between a few hikes and excursions, we spend a lot of time dealing with the squirrels, fixing things that the airbnb renters have broken, and cleaning out the bags of grass seed the mice have gotten into in the shed. On one hand, this feels like a shame, but on the other, it highlights the glorious distinction between our kids needing Activities vs. all of us partaking in activity — and how nice it is to excuse oneself from the organizational and emotional demands of providing said kids with said Activities. 

Activities, capital A, are what I define as coordinated and planned excursions that require us to usually spend money on food stuffs, admission and/or other entry fees, equipment rental, tickets, etc etc and often require a parent to do some kind of social coordination with a friend or child’s parent, which are not always the same. Don’t get me wrong: these are often fun, but do require thinking and planning.

Activity, lowercase a, is my kids occupying themselves without me. And me occupying myself without having to prioritize my kids. The kids made games out of picking dandelions and collecting sticks in the yard. Ada timed herself climbing up a tree and back down it over and over again. Julian worked on balancing a large rake on his back without using his hands for 15 minutes. The kids played with a stomp rocket again and again trying to intentionally get the rocket stuck in the tree so that Ada would have to then climb the tree again to shake it out. This kind of activity feels precariously on the edge of extinction, particularly now, because 1) overscheduled kids 2) overprotected kids 3) technology 4) parents generally feeling anxious that this is not edifying enough, so I’m want to romanticize it, which I definitely did.

While Jacob vacuumed mouse droppings out of the shed, and I pruned piles upon piles of overgrown branches, the kids disappeared over to the neighbor’s yard, where they negotiated a deal of doing small odd jobs in exchange for jolly ranchers. I engaged in my own activity of choice — yard work, something I’d never make time to intentionally do but truly enjoy. The results of yard work are tangible, it’s satisfying physical exertion, it usually leads to beautification of personal space, and it’s a non-consumptive activity. The joy! I imagine the satisfaction I get is similar to what gardeners get from gardening, a place I one day hope to get. 

At one point our activities merged and Ada asked if she could help with the raking. Julian walked around the yard pulling up dandelions and picking up fallen sticks. It made me nostalgic for the many days of my own childhood where I recall my parents in the yard for hours upon hours, actively showing us that homes need care, and that there’s a certain kind of beautiful choreography to upkeep. I thought about how my kids liking doing yardwork feels like one of my great parenting achievements. They don’t see it as chores. They don’t see it as responsibility. They just see it as a thing to do.

Recommendations (It’s been a while!)

To read:

• Biography of X by Catherine Lacey is a wild ride! Halfway through this now and the entire imagined world of oppression and enigmatic identity it explores are such a bewildering feat to imagine having created.

• I read Memory Piece by Lisa Ko on the plane to and from LA and it was the perfect one to blitz through. A story of three Asian-American friends, united in childhood, who weave in and out of each others’ lives over the decades.

• Ada is reading Chanel Miller’s new chapter book for kids, Magnolia Wu Unfolds it All, about a 10 year old detective, and I’m as excited about this one as she is.

• Should Artists Shop or Stop Shopping? by Sheila Heti

To watch:

• I’m in the tennis resurgence era of my life, so loved this short film, Ball People by director Scott Lazer, which Jacob screened as part of a film program at Soho House in LA last week. It’s about the tryouts to become a ball person at the US Open and is super fun.

• I watched The Idea of You because I’m clearly the target audience for an Anne Hathaway rom com and have many feelings. Please discuss. Relatedly Anne Hathaway was on the new NYTimes podcast The Interview with David Marchese and what a struggle of a convo! An interviewee who reveals nothing!

• We also finished Ripley, which is definitely a chef’s kiss cinematography experience. I am here for any Andrew Scott performance, but did find the first half of this a bit slow (and the second half of the series much stronger). I did find the visual emphasis on certain motifs (stairs! water!) a little heavy-handed but overall 4/5 stars.

• Perfect Days, the new Wim Wenders movie about a Tokyo Toilet cleaner, is perhaps my favorite of the year so far. Such an incredibly patient portrait about gratitude, observation, and the beauty of routine.

To eat:

• Stewart’s chocolate peanut butter ice cream is the perfect ice cream and a small cone is sub-$2 which is HOW IT SHOULD BE.

• And, like, if you happen to be in the San Gabriel Valley then Kee Wah Bakery for perfect Hong Kong style buns.