What is my life? Who am I? What am I doing here?
It’s been almost two weeks since I started on this post, already 3 days late. In trying to sort out the fallout-zone that my life is (had become?), I ended up with several paragraphs on the page that turned into this post instead: The Hidden Cost of [Too Much] Travel.
As Week 43 draws to a close, I give you Week 41:
I set up a kind of office in the bedroom of an open-plan house where I though my operation-help-Grandma life would be based. Now twenty days later I discover I’ve sat at that desk precisely twice and slept in that bedroom maybe four times.
From my standing desk, I looked out the window to see a road runner (big bird!) curiously inspecting a (now dry) fountain I made years ago. Rain-spattered windows and screens do not make for great photos.
I dealt with some of my mind-swimming that week by playing the guitar – every song I ever knew how to play from tabs printed out in the late 70s. Then I bought a capo, because I was tired of skipping songs I wanted to learn because they either required a capo or learning new cords. Then I put the capo in a drawer and proceeded to spend almost 0% of my waking hours at the house with the guitar.
Instead of sleeping in the place I expected, I spent far more nights sleeping at the home of whoever I was caring for… my grandmother or my nephews. This is not the bed I slept in… it’s my grandmother’s bed. It captures her perfectly. The old-lady colors and patterns of the quilt she made contrasted with the intense, lively pop of the fleece blanket she made. (After a long career in teaching business accounting and working in banking, she retired and went to clown school.)
Lack of autonomy is soul-destroying for me. (See exhibit A.) As serendipity would have it, a friend of mine who lives in this awesome dude-ranch-cave-apartment place is out of town and invited me to call her home my own.
Regular readers will probably recognize this as an “oh-shit-I-haven’t-taken-a-photo-and-today-is-over-in-a-few-minutes” photo. When I’ve failed to capture a memorable moment from the day, I turn to art. And my excellent-taste Amiga’s house is full of thoughtful beauty. Even when it comes to kitchen gadgets.
Thankfully the neighbor turned me on to the fact that the berries outside my front door are edible AND delicious. Desert Hackberries! A woman I met in the pool told me they’re related to the goji berry and super nutritious. The internet told me the pleasantly crunchy inner seed is full of protein and fat. My tastebuds told me to get up off the couch and go pick a handful… several times a day.
Tucson, Arizona – USA