Oh my gosh has Fall landed, or what? Brown leaves dance toward the lawn. Branches grind as wind gusts. Flowers start to crisp instead of bloom. Funny how the change of season forces an inward reflection. Is this just for me? I doubt it. I reflect on where I came from. What lays ahead. I reflect on books I should’ve read, on skills I should’ve learned, and conversations I should’ve had. Wait, this drama is for New Year’s, not “New Season”. . .
Seriously, the change in season is giving me a new sense of urgency to hit the road. Staying longer will defy our mission; we must go where the weather suits our clothes. Granted, I have blown out two pair of flip flops, I refuse to replace them with boots. Just typing “boots” actually makes me want for a pair of boots. That’s crazy talk! Boots. Ahhhh, a leather pair, with character. Slight heel, minimal top stitching, dark brown, squared-tip toe, so soft they feel like you’re slipping your foot in to butter. I am truly getting carried away. This is nonsense. And, the mere idea of me buying boots will certainly motivate Woody to hit-it.
We have become comfortable at Castle Black.
Leaving is a little complicated. And, talk about crazy, Woody will actually worry about the roses. He has brought them to life, combatting all sorts of nuisances, and regretfully he won’t be the one pruning them for winter.
He won’t be burning a leaf pile, he won’t get to use the snow blower, won’t be in the heart of the Cubs frenzy… I know all this because everyone keeps pointing these things out. However, most disappointing for me, I won’t be taking a sledge hammer to the kitchen. Boy, this kitchen needs work, my jury-rigged faucet & garbage disposal will only hold out for so long. There are two ovens, and we have a standing joke, “the broken one works.” The “broken one” being the oven without a handle to open the door. The remodel will happen, just wish I knew where the secret “GO” button was. Anyway. . .
It’s complicated. We have jumped in on these projects
and obviously enjoy it, but it makes it difficult now to head out and leave the few jobs hanging. Even more troublesome is the awareness that Carlos is too fragile to see both Oregon and Florida again. Last week he had a bout of illness, with no eating, lethargic and tossing his (absent) cookies. I’m happy to report his appetite is back, and he’s sleeping only 60% of the day again. As badly as we all want to see the green, green pastures of home, we realize the warm, warm pastures of Florida are more agreeable for Carlos’ old bones. Bless his heart. Barring any unforeseen obstacles, we should be heading south next week. We’ll be taking the slow road, of course, heading to the first flattest state, Florida.