I'm sleeping in my grandparents' room. I think it's the same bed. Could be the same mattress the way it feels. My Pop-Pop essentially died in this house. By that I mean, he was probably already gone from the massive heart attack he suffered at the dining room table while Grandma was out in the cellar house getting the jar of green beans she was going to fix with his lunch. My Uncle Bob carried him out to the car and Grandma drove the 35 miles like a maniac to the State Patrol office, but the patrolman told me later he was gone long before they got there. An ambulance brought him to the hospital where I was doing my x-ray training and they pronounced him. They placed his coffin in the living room not fifteen feet from where I'm writing this. He rested there three days before the funeral, my grandma barely leaving his side...a position she had kept two months shy of fifty years.
I never really looked at staying on the farm as giving of myself, but I feel the gratitude of my family for caring for the place with the same love my grandparents had. Even though I wasn't able to stay here and care for my aunt the way I intended, I can care for the farm with all my heart and soul.
Just a quick note to let you know I arrived safely. I had to run to the next little small town to buy a long distance calling card. I can't be TOTALLY cut off from the world! I'm going to sleep till noon tomorrow! I haven't stopped running since I got to WV. It's so peaceful in this little holler. Can't wait to sit on the porch and listen to the night. Talk to you soon!
Remember lying on your back on the grass on a hot summer day and looking up through the tree branches above you? The ground was lumpy and cool. The grass tickled the backs of your legs. Bugs buzzed around your ears. And your skin was damp with the salty sour sweat of playing Tag or Red Rover. There was magic in that cool shade beneath those branches. Something solid and comforting...as if the arms of Mother Nature herself were protecting you from the great big world of adulthood.
Since losing Mr. Virgo, I've always said "Nothing scares me!" The truth of the matter is, "Nothing MUCH scares me!" Something does, though. I'm afraid of the dark. Not the dark of night. No...I'm afraid of what happens when the lights dim and go out in your mind. Someone close to me is having difficulty with that right now. A couple of people, actually. And I have to tell you, that scares the crap out of me. FOR them, of course. For their loved ones who watch them withering away, their minds shutting down like faulty circuit boards on a stormy afternoon. And for me...and the impact it would have on my kids.
As I was driving all those long hours cross country this week, many friends messaged me to send words of encouragement. My phone has a unique feature where I can ask it to read my messages and to dictate a reply. The dictation feature insists you enunciate clearly and speak slowly. Project! Or else, you end up telling your friend she might have a you're an airy infection. Or you might just sleep in your truck so you don't have to take your cock out of the back. It can get embarrassing. Or at least very funny! Ahhh...the price you pay for safety!
So, it's 90 degrees, you've been driving four HOURS, you've snacked on everything within reach in the cab of your truck, and it's nap time. What do you do? Why, you pull into this beautiful shaded rest area by a lake, put up the window shades, crack the windows, lay your seat back, put your hat brim down over your face...and snooze for an hour. After you lock the doors, of course. Safety first, you know!
Who knows? It was a l-o-n-g day yesterday. I left Wichita at 8:30am and arrived in WV at 2:00am. Safe, sound, and somewhat sane! lol I'm sleeping till noon! ❤️
One of the benefits of joining Sisters on the Fly is the number of Sisters you get. You can go just about anywhere and find a Sister. And, if you ask, you just might get five of them together for dinner!
Two years ago, Carol (seated in black) reached out to me here on Marshmallow Ranch saying she admired what I was doing but she wasn't sure she could do it...physically. We wrote back and forth for quite some time and finally I got the message I was looking for...she'd bought a camper and joined Sisters on the Fly. Then, of course, all her friends wanted to join. It is like that with the Sisters.
Driving across Kansas gives you lots of time to think. And sing at the top of your lungs to every song you know on your playlist. I always stop a lot to break up the drive. There are lots of grain silos, corn fields, sunflowers, and wind turbines on the I-70 corridor through America's breadbasket. I always look for something unusual to go see. In this case, there's a huge cathedral sitting out on the planes looking as "at home" as the QE2 would in Central Park. The Russians who emigrated and founded this church smuggled wheat sewn in the hems of their garments when they rushed away from home. Unfortunately, they also brought the scourge of Russian thistle with them as well.
