Chapter 23… Roving

There is something appropriate about the title of the chapter I’m releasing today. Like Sookie, I feel I have been roving. It has been two weeks in my new home. Two weeks of light construction and changing paint. This past week has been a story of runs to the flooring store and meeting new contractors. I’ve pulled carpet, yanked tacks, ordered furniture only to return it. I’ve painted and repainted, replaced electrical plates and scoured internet tag sales for lighting fixtures and odd pieces.

Of course, in between, I’ve gone back to work, resumed chauffeur services, picked up my farm share and met friends. Real life, sandwiched in.

It didn’t all go well. I injured my back last week and had to endure a patronizing doctor who looked down his nose at any woman over fifty who didn’t have the good sense and common decency to roll over and die, as she should. He’s not my doctor anymore.

But now, I’m on the mend, and for the first time in over two weeks, I am sitting at my table, in my chair that is placed in the usual place, my laptop positioned where I can look out my sliding doors to sun-dappled trees and wonderful summer leaves, and I can report, with relief, that I am finally able to write again, the story picking up (ten chapters ahead of this one), with a trip, meeting old friends, and the realization that it’s time to open one’s heart fully, letting old worries go.

But, that’s not quite where our couple is today. Today, our heroes are finding adventure on the road, and in the process, finding each other.

Thank you, Ms Buffy, for your patience, and kind inquiries. I know this time of year is taxing on you, but Fall is just around the bend.

And thank you, my readers. I hope this latest turn in the story meets your approval.

~ Natsgirl

Chapter 23 – Roving

The First Step…

Our heroes reach a turning point. As happens, the turning point is unexpected, but like any of these events, there is no ignoring it, and the changes it brings.

Thank you Ms Buffy, and I hope the weather change brings you relief. And thank you, to my readers who have embarked on this particular ramble with me.

For those who have asked, I am all moved in and beginning the long process of settling. Forgive the brevity – my hands ache!

Chapter 22 – The First Step

Writing from new spaces…

I have begun my life as a Sherpa. In my philosophical moments, I consider the endless stair walking as training for my Ireland hike next Spring.

I decided to have my floors done (bamboo, it’s renewable), but I only had a week’s vacation to arrange the move. I also decided to remove the carpeting myself, and I didn’t know how long that would take. As a result, the main floor of my triple-level ‘new’ home looks like a construction site. For the next two weeks, I will be living with plywood floors and a camp table for a dining table.

Of course, I had the movers leave all the boxes in the garage and bonus room on the ground floor, and now I must do the job of sorting and shifting, walking up flights and down flights, IKEA blue bags in hand, shuttling goods that can have a home to their rightful places, and finding places for boxes with goods that must wait until the floors are done..

As with all new spaces, this one has inspired a flurry of plan-making. The odd space in the closet that’s perfect for a stack of wine bottles or the odd cut-out in the bedroom that is perfect to be made over into a sitting area. And then, I remind myself – patience!

Patience lets the right color get chosen for the wall. Patience lets money keep pace with ambition. Patience makes sure that you make the decision once and not waste time regretting and revisiting.

But enough of my musings, you’re here to read about another couple. Sookie could also use some patience. She needs more of that instinct that tells her to proceed with caution, but sometimes, light and sea and romance can make fools of us all.

My thanks to you, and best wishes to you, Ms Buffy. This summer has been humid, but it appears better weather is close at hand.

Chapter 21 – And Knowledge Comes Clear

Swinging Away…

The countdown to change in my world is becoming louder now. I look around my space, knowing there is only one more weekend and my time here is done. I hear from people who grew up in the same house, who return for visits and stay in the room where they spent their childhoods. I have none of that, although I wished it for my children. Now, there is another space where life was lived, that will move on to new people, and new memories, and where the walls will change, barring any future cozy returns, waxing nostalgic over dated wallpaper and fading posters.

Even my next space is a step on the road, although this one will be more permanent. You see, now I have a plan.

This next space will be mine until the next move, and then, it will remain mine, but house others. Next time, I will move to where I have long wished to live, my true space a small, cottage of a house on acres of land, watching nature and raising bees.

Sookie is also moving on, although she has no plan. Her heart speaks to her, but she remains a woman in mourning, caught up in change, so she fights what we all see so clearly.

This story is one of coming home, which explains the title, Baile Siochanta, or Peaceful Home. Of course, whether that ‘home’ is a place or a person I will leave to your judgment.

My best to you, Ms Buffy. I hope the humidity stays away, bringing you the best of summer, and thank you to my readers.

Chapter 19 – Swinging Away

Summer reigns…

Life happens in the times between…

I am coming to a new understanding of that saying. For me, as for most people, times of change are unsettling, and I find myself in those times. I am moving, as I’ve written before. My life is once again being reduced to stacks of brown boxes, each of my trinkets and mementoes tucked away in newspaper until it finds its perfect place in another setting.

I have moved so often in my life. I grew up a nomad, and my adult life slowed that. I lived in the place before this one for over twenty-three years – a long stretch and longer than I’ve lived anywhere, and I found it palled. I stopped seeing the dust and the crack in the floor. I stopped seeing the room I wished to change, or perhaps it was the terrible state of my relationship with my now ex-husband that made me so numb to my surroundings.

I looked forward to this place I am now with anticipation. A new life, an escape, a new beginning.

This next move is less clear. It is a move to owning the box around me again, and the idea of such permanence worries me. How I long to simply buy a sailboat, making that my home, free to leave when I wish for another place, the knickknacks I’ve acquired over my life never having to find another box of their own, my spirit free to capture the wind and simply change the address! But, that is not practical, I’m afraid! And so, I am shrinking in on myself, stacks of brown cardboard, preparing for the trucks that will transport me to a new place, a new setting, in which to unfurl my flag and start again.

So Sookie is unfurling her flag into her new life. New starts in new places. She finds the ties to her past hold her, but there are signs there is something wonderful just beyond her next bend, and her hope carries her forward.

My best, and to all, my hope to each of you! And special thanks to Ms Buffy. Safe travels to all the weddings and family gatherings, my friend! Working on that next chapter!

Thanks and Happy Sunday!

Chapter 18 – True North

Happy Holidays…

This seems a busy time of year for remembrance. Canada recently celebrated their anniversary, and today, it’s the United States. Next week, France will celebrate Bastille Day. I could wax eloquent about the interplay of history that links these countries together, and it would be a long tale.

What strikes me as I look at the faces around me is how many nations make us what we are. There is a craze recently among my friends to send off envelopes and vials of spit to companies who diagnose each of them, parsing them into points on a global map. How easy to celebrate our differences then, when we are pronounced to be part of a one! “I found out I’m Irish!” a woman of color told me. “I’m part Chinese!” another blond-haired person told me. How easy to embrace our differences when you find they flow within you.

On this anniversary, I wish, yet again, that we find the wisdom to celebrate not just that blood that flows within, but by extension, the blood that flows in each, recognizing that if we have drop, that makes us brothers and sisters of all.

My thanks to you for reading, and a special thanks to Ms Buffy, my rebel sister from another Mother. I hope your day is long, lazy and full of wonderful things.

Chapter 17 – The Way