I woke up this morning thinking of some things my friends said to me over the weekend: “You can still enjoy a country life, here, Val. I love you – I’m glad you aren’t moving”.
They are country folk; also, city transplants.
We grew up in the same County – went to the same schools; rubbed elbows with relatives, friend, neighbors, and enemies. Our husbands worked, hunted, drank, bickered, and matured to adulthood together – our children were diaper changed side-by-side, went to school together, and shared a life together before leaving home and moving on to other States.
We have a LOT in common: we have ‘history’.
We support each other’s choices.
We pray with/for each other.
We honor each other by speaking honest truths.
We share the same life goals & values.
We love each other.
We stand together.
Some of my friends live smack-dab-in the city, a few live in citified rural areas (like Lexington; which is becoming more urbanized every year) – and several of us live on the far-flung-outskirts of the city: and though the city is spreading out this way, the corrosive tentacles of city trappings have not yet reached this far on the West end.
City congestion and liberal policies are getting closer to home, for sure; but for the moment, our small pocket of city real estate is holding its own in quieter/cleaner living … and rustic tranquility.
For the time being, we are all enjoying a good life; despite the ever-grasping city.
And, at any given time, I can escape deeper into the countryside when I feel the need for comforting solitude: in this, I know I am luckier than most.
I am blessed.
I am thankful.
As I woke up, I also thought I’d like to have a country breakfast at Omelettes & More; so, I washed my hair, pulled some clothes on, and drove the back way – down Industrial Way.
The sky was gray: and it was misting while I drove Industrial Way. The mist was light when I pulled out of the carport … but it increased in wetness and density so much so, that I had to use the medium speed of the windshield wipers to keep my vision clear.
I ordered a big breakfast: that way, I can enjoy it later in the week, too 😉
The booth I was seated at, had a low sitting bench seat: I felt like a midget sitting there … but at least my feet were touching the floor 😉
Breakfast finished (half of it boxed); I topped the gas tank off (prices have gone up a.g.a.i.n.), and drove to 46th, to walk a portion of the Pacific Way Trail. There was road work going on, but traffic was not backed up.
Slipping the Highlander into park; I slid my backpack-purse straps comfortably over my arms, grabbed my walking stick, and was reaching for the cell phone … when I spotted the box of books slated for the Library at Heron Pointe.
CRAP!
I have been hauling these books around for weeks because the Library is only open for a brief period of time Tuesday mornings ☹ … and I’ve been busy Tuesday mornings, missing that brief window of opportunity. I have been hauling that box of books around for so long, I forgot it was even there.
The Louis La'Amour books I had checked out at the Park Library before the first round of covid nonsense - the children's books I am donating, since I'll never see my grandson again in this lifetime. It hurts my heart to see them ... and I'd rather other children enjoy them.
So, I slid my backpack-purse off my arms, put my walking stick back into the backend of the Highlander; and drove back to Library at Heron Pointe – and the door was locked. The ‘librarians’ were in the back, playing pinochle! Mind you, the Library is only open on Tuesday mornings, from 10 AM to Noon: very brief … and that’s why the box of books has been in the Highlander for weeks. So, I tap on the door glass to get their attention – point at the box cradled in my left arm – and wait for one of them to lift their butts off a seat and unlock the door. I mean, really!; if the Library is supposed to be Open – it should be open.
Handing the box over, I drove back to the Pacific Way Trail, along the dike. I drove the Old Pacific Way backroad, because there was a water main being excavated/worked on, when I drove 46th earlier. Driving this route to get to the Trail, would have me on the wrong side of the street to park … so I took a side trip out Dike Road to turn around at the Dead End – which would turn me around the right way to park when I got back to 48th.
I didn’t mind doing that: I was curious what that street looked like now – in decades past, Bob used to visit the junk yard at the end of the blacktop, when he needed out-of-date-pieces for various machinery/vehicles that needed fixing. The place looked pretty much the same … except that blackberries are covering most of the ‘dead’ machines/vehicles that used to frequently be cannibalized before everything manufactured became digitalized. It was sad to see those abandoned things in the creeping grip of blackberry brambles.
Along the Dike Road ‘for old times sake’ drive, a woman was walking her horse. I was glad to see she was managing it so well; some horses balk & get antsy around traffic – I was glad to see that would not be the case, in that particular moment 😊
Finally parked along the Pacific Way Trail, I set out on my walk.
Again, I only intended to walk a
third of the Trail.
It wouldn’t do much by way of calorie burning (especially after this morning's breakfast)… but it would strengthen my muscles, and loosen my joints for a longer walk, soon 😉
Under the low-lying gray clouds, I enjoyed a country mile walk 😊
I saw a flock of Swedish Black Ducks, enjoying their wet community.
I saw 2 deer grazing in tall field grass.
There was very little foot traffic on the trail.
I walked among spirited swallows, on the wing – swooping and darting along the path in front of my feet.
I stopped and listened to birds, busily congregating in a leafy bower on the opposite side of the dike slough.
I saw that since I last walked this trail; someone had bought the rundown, windowless house along the trail route: it’s got new roofing, and has been painted … but it still only has 1 upstairs window. In the whole house – 1 window.
It was 63-degrees during my Trail walk; and the gray clouds still hovered. Humidity was 50%: and the misting, which was light from the start of my walk to the gated turnaround – escalated to a full-on-glasses lens-mucking: there are no water clearing glass wipers on my glasses: by the time I had made the turnaround and reached the parked Highlander, I was glad I had kept my walk short 😉
I did a little light grocery shopping on my way home, and grabbed some color spots when I passed them. I like color. I think these will do nicely to liven my new life 😊
Stores are already setting Fall themed Holiday d̩cor on shelves; but, I was not tempted to buy anything Fall related Рyet.
Exiting the store, I was hit with a wave of miserable hot – not hot, like burning sun hot … but hot like sticky, muggy, heat: 62-degrees, and it felt like 100% because of the heaviness in the stifling air.
And the air conditioner was useless because it was not hot enough to warrant turning it on. I drove home with all the windows open to create a breeze tunnel, that kinda helped tamp down the muggy stickiness.
Now that I am no longer looking for a new home, I will be driving to Naselle again, come Thursday; to enjoy the company of my country friends there 😊
Keeping that in mind, I also decided to delve into my ‘Ambitions Jar’ and pluck out a destination to visit on my way back home from Naselle 😉
Tonight, I started working on my own design knit ‘Angel Baby Gown’, to match the tiny blanket I finished the other evening. I will make 2 gown to send off with it: 1 for a girl … 1 for a boy; both will match the blanket.
Grief is hard.
It is important the grieving know someone cares.
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