This is what’s on my mind …
Deadhead and Bedhead
The Clover Express rolled in about 3, yesterday.
We carried in a load of stuff that we could carry and was necessary … my purse, Chik Filet lemonade cups that still had lemonade that I drank last night, and were purchased just before Knoxville, and a couple of things of garbage.
After dropping them on the counter, we both went out back to see the yard. Nick reported that not a drop of rain had fallen. My neighbor, Connie, who had graciously said she would water and tend my plants, saw us and stopped over. I think she was a speck nervous. A couple of plants had died, but the rest were in good shape.
I assured her that we were thankful for what she did. Here is the thing. Plant die. They just do. You can do your best and they still go kaput. You dig them out and plant another and hope for better luck, because luck, is part of gardening.
She had a big job as there were many plants and the no-rain weather system didn’t cut her any slack. She saw what went south, while I saw the living plants that had survived. I was more than grateful.
Our kitchen counter is full of items one of our daughters purchased with her coupons. The girl knows her coupons.
This morning, versus the last week of morning,s I knew exactly what I was going to do when I got up in the morning.
My routine! I made my tea, let Winston out, grabbed my walking stick, and walked the yard. I sized up what I need to do. I deadheaded and then cut myself my first bouquet of the summer, took it into the house and put it in a vase and breathed.
It was my first act of re-centering myself.
I donn’t know about you but there are times that I am centered. I may wobble a bit, but that is just being flexible. But, especially when I travel, I can get like a top that spins around, on a path, and then, I get tilted, I leave center and wobble without direction.
It is very weird how that happens, even in good situations. Like visiting my kids. When I return to Cincinnati, I never seem to get my feet on the ground. Be it staying with people or in a hotel, I feel like my life is on a weird hold. Yep, it is all in my head, and back and sleep-patterns and eating at our favorite haunts and not having my garden and my things to do and work.
I like to work, and when I travel I don’t have that focus. The actual seeing people is good, I enjoy that. It is the in-between times, when we are neither really here nor there, don’t have our own space, that I, and even Nick, get a little wonky.
I am not sure if it is an old fart thing or just that driving so much and not having any place to call ‘home’ just makes us disoriented.
Egad … the squirrel just made it to the top of the bird feeder by climbing the skinny pole. I think I will put Vaseline on the pole so I get some entertainment.
We are like the Whack-a-Moles. We pop up and say, “hi, we are here,” and then try to be on the spot, ‘normal’, when we aren’t our normal. We are traveling normal, which is really, just a nicer term than half-idiot.
So, I think most people, including our kids, think, “Wow, they are odd. When are they leaving?”
For me, it has to do with centering. I like to be centered. I usually know how to center myself. When on the travel-mode I am a deer in headlights.
And it is exhausting.
For someone who loved be-bopping around, I find that now, I like feeling settled. Not dead. Just settled.
I am sure this is sounds like a bunch of hogwash if you don’t have this kind of personality.
Why do we do it?
Family. Love. Because we should.
I still feel guilt about leaving three kids and four grandkids. I don’t ever want them to think that location trumps them. It doesn’t. Although, the Carolina Blue skies and Southern sun, and friendly Southern people, do have their perks.
There is a part of me that makes me want to sit with them when I am up there, and repeat over and over and over, how much I love them, to their faces.
(I clan just see their faces if I did that)
It is hard to feel centered when love seems by appointment.
I also get more concerned for Nick, whose Parkinson’s doesn’t give him a break while he is traveling.
So my center is a bit wobbly a lot of the time. and I am going to have to learn how to remember that just because I want things to be so, it doesn’t mean it will be so.
The good part of all this, is that we did have wonderful visits with our children and grandchildren. The hard part is that I feel like a spot checker, instead of being apart of their lives.
Well, well, well, isn’t this a weird post?
It’s all good. It really is. Especially this beautiful morning, watching two goldfinches and the trees scratching each other’s backs and knowing that I have work to do.
Hallelujah … we are home and we are loved.