I have been thinking why as of late I have so little to write about. I think that my life has perhaps become boring and nothing out of the ordinary every happens anymore! I think that I work way too much and that the small amount of time that I have left over is spoken for, prearranged and well thought out. I think about all the books I do not read anymore because I have no time and anyway, I have become obsessed with magazines.
And if I am not reading Time magazine and scaring myself silly about the condition of the world and where we are headed I am watching amusing TV shows and laughing, chuckling and snorting over Jimmy Fallon. And if I am not sleeping I am loosing myself in yet another fantasy of some way I am going to get rich quick in the near future - this time by opening up some type of Vintage jewelry business. I see myself with my tiny booth covered by some smart and fancy yet stylish tent selling my wares on the longest yard sale, be it the Route 66 or the 127 or most recently discovered, Lincoln Highway, which incidentally I once lived off of!
And so it goes, my mind jumping from one thought to another all the while worried about not taking care of my skin, thinking about saving money for Christmas next year and praying for my Mom, missing my Dad and missing my brother-in-law. Missing the jaunts to the "farm",not a working farm, but a farm all the same.
Missing a lot of things and looking forward to a new adventure, a new shake up, a new direction. One never knows from day to day what unexpected happiness or tragedy will greet us if we are lucky enough to step out our front door.
I think the announcement can finally be made. I have informed all the people who will be impacted by the news and I believe that Joe has done that same - and on that note let it be known that we are Back To Memphis. Joe is to begin running things on April 1st and I am excited and concerned all at the same time. Mixed together like some weird Ben and Jerry concoction, Memphis Beat Blue-berry.
I know that in time, maybe not too soon, but in time I will miss the landmarks of this military town and the friends that I have made here and the characters that have endeared themselves to me. And all the people I meet daily and make a brief connection and learn a little bit about them and it stays with me. It becomes a tiny little bit of my being. Today it was an 88 year old lady who told me about her quilting club. Twice a week, depending on the weather (Missouri) they get together and quilt. The leader, a woman of 92 years, get the ideas. "I can only sew little stitches" she demonstrated to me in the air. And when they finish their creation they give it to the church to sell or auction off. They produce about three a year. I inquired at how much they sell for. "We are happy if they get $100." I was shocked. I wish I lived in that Missouri town, I would give $200 for it! I would make their year! I would have them talking for a long time about how much money they made from that one quilt on that crazy Kentucky woman.
I'm going to miss all those people just passing thru. And I am going to miss all those people who I see over and over through out the several years (can you believe I have been here almost two years??). Who talk to me for awhile as they wait for their name to be called to eat dinner or breakfast at the Bucket. The mortician who lives in a house with his ex-wife (his third) because he does not have the heart to throw her out because she has no where to go and is pretty disabled. She will not cook or do anything for the privilege of staying - so he buys dinner to take home with him on a very regular basis. And I will miss the Mayor, who did not run for reelection but moved on to much greener pastures much to the public outcry - hardy har har - he comes in I always say "Howdy Mayor!" and he always gives me that two handed hand grasp thing that gifted politicians do. And the other Mayor from a little old town in KY who stops in for breakfast on their way to Nashville when he is escaping his own town. And the "Fair to Middling" guy who came in every night, I mean every night since his wife died. He has to sit at the same table every evening and if is occupied he waits. He orders the same thing every evening, clear soup. Then he heads home, which is another little town in KY about seven miles over the TN border. Until one night he did not make it home, but pulled off the road and died of a massive heart attack. I was stunned, I had just spoken to him asked how he was doing and he said, as he always says, "Fair to Middling". And the little short guy who was trying on the Alan Jackson cowboy hat and I told him how handsome he looked in it and he confided in me that he had a cowboy hat at home, a good one a Stetson and then several days later he wore it in, all dressed in black and wearing that hat, fitting him like he was born in it. Smiling at me and then he tipped his Stetson.
I'm going to miss all that.
What is waiting ahead for me, that is what I am looking forward to.