Wednesday night in Point, Tx.
Weather was chilly-perfect. I’d gathered up fallen limbs that had been knocked down by the past few storms and finally lit them off. Stared at the fire and thought, and didn’t think. Depending.
Took a while to burn and I watched it. Not much happened except every so often a piece would break, or roll. Or a tuft of grass would burn for a bit then go out.
I guess I’m an odd bird — I don’t get bored and I don’t get lonely. I can go days without talking to anyone (dogs don’t count) and not really notice. Admittedly there are shortcomings to this approach but I find them preferable to noise and chaos.
Bit of a rough [virtual] weekend. Got some work done but had a few setbacks. Continue reading
This move has a been brewing for a few years. Incubating.
I found myself in a suburb, chafing at the size of the house, the size of the mortgage, neighbors who preferred wasteful lawns to productive gardens. I would stand in my back yard watching the code enforcement car (paid for with our tax dollars) prowl the alleys, hoping the stealth chickens would stay quiet. I figured the neighbors would report me if I got a goat.
I’d finally gotten my own act together (big thanks to the V.A. hospital!) and started noticing how bound up I felt by the city and the life I had failed to control and guide. A friend was riding with me in the old beater truck and said “you get happier, more relaxed the further you get from the city.” Yeah.
I filed for divorce, signed over the house, and started preparing for a move back to the small town that has been a touchstone in my life as long as I can remember.