Somewhere Between Here & There

If I write this morning, it frees up my Sunday routine. Where I'm at in life right now, it doesn't really matter which day I write or do anything else. Other than work, my week is a 3-day gig and my fill-in on Saturday nights at the hall. I stare at my vision board and wonder: is this existence still out there? Is this place waiting for me to arrive? How much longer is this going to take? ( in my French accent) I stare, get sad, want to cry, and then I go on and contemplate the world at large, and where do I fit in now? It's not easy being me (smirk) (sigh) Life is kerplunked, and I am the marble at the bottom of the tube. The vast tube of what's coming!

I've longed for this life my whole life. I studied and trained for this life. For the life of me and for the sake of Pete; Who the hell is Pete? lol I'm not here, but where is here? Or there? Or anywhere? Hey Dr Seuss, can I catch a ride? Maybe Sam I am can direct me! (cheesy grin)

Ruminate, limerence, and romanticize; I am so good at this. These would be the by-products of trauma, drama, crisis, and chaos, which I was thrust into. None of the 4 were of my choosing! None of it, I say! Nonetheless, my mind circles in loops and stays stuck with ridiculous, girl-like notions, thinking, but it could be like this. Why didn't, why doesn't anyone else think like this? Because someone else's trauma, drama, crisis, and chaos gave them another form of PTSD; that's why! Then my precious brain says, "If they saw it my way, their issues would go away." {I hear my gram. "Kit, it doesn't work like that."} I retort, " Well, it should!"

"I wake in the morning, and I step outside. I take a big breath..." Ya know. The country, the hills, the Tenn. mountains, and that damn grumpy bear that keeps getting in the trash." No, not that grumpy bear; the other one with the smelly fur and 4 paws that leaves tracks no one wants to follow. Me: Here, cubby, let me feed you (childlike smile)

I must have like 4 realtors on my tail, hounding me to sell right now. What is it about equity and the scent of a sale? Yeah, well, not yet! Soon, but not yet! I stare at my board! Intently, I stare!

Through all of this, the current empty lane and all, I have come to this realization. I have nothing to prove to a soul! I have accomplished so much, and I need to give myself credit for that. I worked with what I had. I used the tools, learned the lessons, and applied them in other ways: teaching, writing, publishing my first book, and creating a line of merchandise. I owned a horse and was schooled in equine behavior, only to have to watch her get sick and bury her. A loss I was not prepared for. To lose a dog, a cat, or a pet goldfish is nothing like losing a 1400lb animal that loved you as if you were the sun and the moon. I will have another! It's on my board... bet your last Dollar! I will have another!

Let's romanticize a bit, shall we? I'm the writer. Let me give you a glance into the dreamy gray matter.

The early morning fog was why they called it the Smoky Mountains. Dolly said it best: "You don't know what's around the corner." And around the corner they had turned. It wasn't easy, and to say the least, it was more than sharp. At one point, their emotional curve almost took them both out.

He was a morning person, and she was not. Up before dawn, coffee made, and bear patrol on. Let the dogs out for a run before he ran to town for who knew what. She never asked. He piddled. She liked a man that could tinker. It kept the mind busy and the hands not idle. She suspected, wash the truck, get gas, clean out her seat becuase god forbid he lift up the back seat. No one knew what was under those seats. She laughed, "bear spray." Her blanket folded neatly and her cubby clean for her coffee. Really, all she was concerned. The weather would change quickly if not prepared, and prepared he always was.

By the time she woke, he pulled into the drive. Slowly watching him give that once-over to the freshly washed truck. An old man's truck is what she would tell him. In a harsh response, he would say, " I love my truck." She would smile and respond, "Yes, dear, I know you do." They would both laugh.

She took her time to shower as he lay on the couch. TV time, a wasted effort, she thought, but as she showered, some gun show was on, and he was glued to it until she adamantly said, "LET'S GO!" Reluctantly, the TV would be turned off, and out the door they would go...

Errands, into town, a fancy coffee, an antique mall, and then the grocery store. A stop for firewood on the way home, although several cords had been delivered earlier in the week. His usual excuse: "I can use this for the smoker," and she smiled . He fed her well, and who can complain about that, right? A man and his smoked meat, again, she laughed. Always, before returning, there was some off-the-beaten-path something or another he would have to go see. She scrolled on her phone ever so lightly, looking at the distance and the beauty of the mountains. There was nothing like it! Nothing...

Coming around the bend and past the creek, avoiding the pass this time, she reminisced on his resistance to leaving the Midwest and the back-and-forth, indignant, stubborn behavior she had to endure, and the mountainous excuses why he could not leave a job he hated! It only took several years apart before he realized the best part of him was gone, and without her, his life was a routine of misery and discomfort. Although he often complained about the miles on that vehicle he loved so much, she knew he loved her more!

And that, my readers, is what you call romanticizing, and it's in this precious brain of mine 24/7. It's a full-time occupation. But that is why I am the creative one. (proud smile)

I'm off to sew. I'm working on learning how to do fabric collage. It's a form of quilting. One more thing to believe: if I get good at it, it will be in my "shop" when I move to the next location. I'm sure it's on the board somewhere, or maybe it's on the other one. I laugh; I have a series of boards all made up for this grand storybook life I intend to live in. With or without another!