My husband is a crier in movies; I am not. Occasionally something will tug out a tear or two, but it’s rare. And weeping? Unheard ... Read More
I’m not sure how to title this one because I’m sitting still as a stone and am headed neither West nor East. How sad. Our travels brought us safely into the drive at 10pm. Dad had a nice little tray of snacks ready for us out at the gazebo when we got home — fresh-made tabouli, avocado salsa and hummus, all wrought by his own hand. Yum. He brought out our favorite wine glasses and a chilled decanter of white for me and mom. I mention all of these little details because it all served in making the re-entry not quite such a let-down as it has been in the past. Another thing that helped was the fact that the weather in Nashville is unusually GORgeous and cool. I am praying with all my might that God would allow whatever forces are at work to make this beauty possible stay in control for a lot longer than a couple of days.
We are sitting outside this morning with coffee served in the new hand-painted Mexican cups we bought in Santa Fe, dad’s watering and clipping things, the cat is rolling around in the driveway, mom is cleaning out the cooler from the trip, the breeze blows from time to time and I am in a bit of a water-trickle-induced trance (there’s a fountain sort of thing out here by the gardens, it’s not in my head or anything), wondering what I’m going to do with myself now that we’re home. I’m pretty sure that there will be some art that results from my travels, hopefully some more writing, and…fixing my truck. More on that later. Something special could be in store for my sweet 1971 GMC pick-up.
Something could also be in store for the Airstream — mom and I started to dream on the way home about the small things we can do to get her on the right track. “Her” being “the trailer.” I’m just going to have to start chipping away at small things I can accomplish, and leave big things like replacing the holding tank and sub-floor until a certain friend of mine who is good with wood has arrived in Nashville. I think I might be able to arrange a barter whereby we will exchange one new sub-floor for home-cooked meals, including pie, for as long as it takes to install said sub-floor. In the meantime, I can chip paint, clean, replace drawer pulls, scrape messy caulking, and speak lovingly to her. When she’s ready, we can all look forward to new adventures in my next travel log. Thanks for reading, whoever you are.