I fit here. West Virginia is just the right size and shape to accommodate all that is…me! We were sitting on the porch last night contemplating the “traffic” up this little country lane. Maybe a dozen or so cars and trucks have come and gone. The light turned that beautiful golden of August, giving the tired green of the trees a gilding that brings a little life back in their weary veins. Old Mama Kitty munched out on that bit of pork chop I surreptitiously dropped for her to try to keep her from climbing Mr. FixIt’s leg like a young sapling, disturbing our Friday “date night” dinner.
Is there anything more wonderful than the glow of the gas light in the yard to welcome you home? This light has burned continuously since I was a little girl. It’s had many mates replaced and several panes of glass. It’s had a coat or two of flat black paint and it can no longer be adjusted for the rust, but it’s the beacon that greets me when I come up the driveway here at the farm
Yesterday was lovely. We went out for breakfast then headed to Camping World to check on the trailer. They were still working on locating an axle. We elected to take the wheel with the nearly shredded tire to Walmart and get a new one. Easy peasy. Then, to kill some time, we went to New Paris and browsed the antique stores. By 4:00 we decided it was best to go check in on the trailer again. Bad news. The replacement axle isn’t sitting on a shelf someplace. They don’t make them until they’re ordered. And, they take ten days to make. So the camper won’t be ready for at least two weeks!
One of the most important things I’ve learned about camping is this…check, check, and double-check everything. When I had that blowout a couple years ago, I learned to check the air pressure every single time I tow…whether it’s to the end of the driveway or across the state. I learned this from Stephanie and Jeremy Puglisi of RV Family Travel Atlas and Janine Pettit of Girl Camper Podcast. Now I check my tires religiously.
OMGosh! After camping two nights in parking lots, Grandpa’s Farm Campground is just what the doctor ordered. Mr. FixIt and I were up at the crack of dawn and dragged our sorry butts into the IHOP for breakfast. Coffee, coffee, coffee. I slept maybe three pharmaceutically induced hours to the refrains of a hundred diesel engines idling all night. Ok, there were…like, twenty-five, ok? All I’m sayin’ is…it sounded like the 10th Armored Division were on maneuvers in my living room. Have I ever mentioned I’m grumpy in the mornings if I don’t sleep well and coffee is delayed by the briefest of moments? I thought not…I hate to tarnish my pristine reputation. Oy.
Mr. FixIt was in an automotive store picking up a part for my truck when I was preparing to leave on this trip. He was telling the sales guy about all the trouble I was having getting out of town with the camper. They guy handed him the part and said, “Well, it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out.” Mr. FixIt laughed and said, “I don’t know…everything is an adventure with Ginny McKinney!” He gets me! Yesterday was no exception.
This is the hard part…saying goodbye. I don’t like goodbyes. I miss my kids and my grands when I’m in West Virginia. I wish we lived closer. At one point I was ready to move back to Colorado. But man…the cost of living is nearing the breaking posing for most people and it has gotten so incredibly crowded. As much as I will miss my girls, I am longing for home…for the peacefulness of the country…for smaller towns and fewer crowds.
I love listening to live music. We met Daughter #1 and the grands for dinner then attended the outdoor concert at Flatirons Crossing…a large mall in Louisville, CO. They left at intermission so when the band started up again, I led Mr. FixIt out on the dance floor for the second half. I love to dance, but my 64-year-old knees were screaming in protest before long. I’ll pay for it today, I’m afraid.
My friend, Fred, lost his mom yesterday. We got the word while we were visiting Buffalo Bill’s grave. It made me think of my mom. It made me think back to when my oldest was about three and Mom came out to Colorado for a visit. I brought her up here and we sat on this very bench. She was well and happy and healthy and I thought I’d have her forever. Years later, my mom got sick suddenly and was gone in five days.
There has been a major shift within me this trip. I wasn’t sure going into this vacation how I would react sharing the space that is mine in Colorado with both Mr. Virgo’s memory and Mr. FixIt’s presence. How would everything fit? At home on the farm in West Virginia, Mr. Virgo only occupies space in my mind and heart as well as what few tangible things I have kept that were his. Here, he lives in the mountains, he sits in the sunsets, he whispers in the wind that blows through the trees. He’s everywhere. Would he distract me too much? How would I feel entertaining two men…one very much here, the other very much real but not here?
