I've just assumed that if everyone could come live with us and in this way we are living they would all be happy. And we've both been wondering how in the heck we could be so rewarded with such a smooth move, such a great house, such amazing timing, healthy pets. etc. Most of it is answered prayers in whatever way you want to think of that, but also, and this is what took me awhile, much of it is because we wanted to live the way we are living. And not everyone does. We wanted what we have now, and we weren't getting it and we just figured you don't get what you want.
We spent a lot of time bemoaning the changes in Seattle and I now realize it was because I was getting up the courage to say:
I need....
I need...
I need:
Here is what I really, really need. And that means I'm going to have to lose my proximity to friends and neighbors. I'm going to lose community. I'm going to lose familiarity. But finally, there was a tipping point and it was... I gotta, because I am really stuck and I am not happy and I'm tired of being mad at too many people and cars and whatever is toxic to me, and so, I am going to have to Move. Jump. Do.
Up until that moment I guess I told myself I didn't need it that much.
All's to say, I have been hesitant to write because not only do I want everyone to be happy, but I want that to be easy for them. And so I will stop telling everyone to move here but instead say, I hope you can get what you really really need.
For Ann and me it was exactly what we wanted, to live out in the country, to be in a place that does not put tech over people, that does not have a lot of rules, that says live and let live and that includes a confederate flag in a few windows and broken-down people with parts missing due to sawmills and mining but always kind and almost always interesting and just so committed to that kindness and freedom that even as a big ol' queer I feel safe.
We also live in the richest part of a very poor state.
Yes there are trailers parked on lawns but there are also mansions; there are Dollar Generals and Auto Zones everywhere but there are also Krogers and the Walmart has high-end gluten free stuff and some of the best Pinot Noir I've ever tasted.
Ann always told me all about this and god knows it's in her beautiful stories, but to really feel it, the broken down and the beautiful, is exactly what makes me feel safe. You, there, with the spikey hair and the tattoos, you are welcome. Even if you do talk funny.
All this time I was a good middle-class person being told over and over again, it's my own mind that is making me stressed, it is my own mind that makes my reality, it is...
But it wasn't all that. For me, it was the culture. And now I seem not to worry about what I look like much anymore, or to make a smart remark about something "inefficient," or to blame myself for being anxious, but rather, to do the best of what I learned in the city, which is to do what I know calms down my mind, but also to just go sit on the porch and listen to the birds and watch the fireflies and somehow, mysteriously, my monkey mind is gone.
I just wanted to share that with you.
Enough lecture, how about some updates
So in my last post, we learned that Ann had heroically saved Bodie from the creek and came home and scrubbed off her whole body vigorously. All fine. Right when I left town the 7-10 day reaction window proved true and she erupted into horrible pustules and weeping sores. It became systemic, meaning even where she hadn't touched the plants she was covered in rash. She would not let me take a picture to her later regret, so I was gonna tell you "Google worst poison ivy ever" but decided to myself, and here you go, this is what it looked like.
In patches all. Over. Her. Body.
She used every known thing under the sun and finally, on a visit back to her hometown in Romney to see friends, her best friend's husband Frankie brought out this miracle stuff.
A bit late in the excruciation but helpful nonetheless. Almost completely healed now. Whew.
The next story is: Never doubt how fast you can run - uphill - while not in the best of shape - when you are in danger or pain or both.
A few days ago I was weedwhacking and suddenly felt a sharp burning on my leg and saw it was a yellow jacket. No problem, I moved away only to realize that there was another on my finger, and on my neck, and under my shirt. And then I realized, more than 2 bees is probably a swarm and
got
the
hell
out
of
there.
But that didn't work! They followed me! I threw down the whacker and ran up the hill. Still they stung and I spun around and ran up some more hills and it was like they were glued on! One was stuck under my shirt and the buzzing was so freakin loud I began to panic, that a whole swarm was on me and would be forever. Finally it dawned on me to turn the garden hose on myself and that stopped all but the stuck one, which Ann calmly plucked off when she and Bodie returned from their walk.
Never saw you move so fast, babe.
Figured it was a bee.
Thanks, babe. I kept waiting for terrible things to happen but the places just hurt for a few days. But one place, the first the bee had stung, was hugely swollen and kept burning so I feared an allergy. Today I finally saw why:
In that one spot there were seven stings! Bringing the grand total up to 10.
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| Left ankle |
More: Here is the view from the throne:
Here is the view from the hammock:
Here's some neighbors checking out the yard:
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| Wild turkeys |
Here's gathering the best water in the world from the spring:
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| Damn that is some white hair... |
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| WV cookbook and a bamboo book holder, plus maple syrup. |
Just discovered a peach tree in the yard...Just yer average view:
Loving you all makes me so happy. Even if I miss you like a burning bee sting in my heart.Thanks for writing your encouragement at these silly posts. I think about what I'll write you so often, it actually helps me understand the experiences!
Come visit, y'all!
* You know, by my man Al
