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I had the very best outing yesterday. Friends picked me up to take me with them to a local winery. It was reminiscent of the back country road wineries I so often went to in Australia. And like down under, the wine was actually very good. We started with a bubbly champagne of sorts and then moved on to a very good rich red. I even brought a bottle of the latter one home for later. I will definitely go back. If for no other reason than to shake the hand of the vintner. It was such a warm and firm handshake. It felt good after maybe two years of not having that type of contact.

Last week I cruised my new neighborhood to be and someone living there actually waved to me. I can’t remember the last time someone waved to me. Where I live now it is not one with neighbors who would wave because no one sees each other that often. And since Lee has left here, the isolation is even more acutely felt. But things are moving along quite well with the relocating. The bank has approved a loan large enough to get my new house built and I will stay put and continue to clear thing out before putting this house on the market close to moving in day.

It is so odd to see how I have disassociated myself from here since Lee has gone. I will not miss being here. It is work, lots of work and there are no close attachments to those living in this neighborhood. It is a perfect home for someone else who can throw themselves into making memories like those I have of building and making a home to entertain friends and family.

As I go through the house deciding what I want to take with me, I see much more that will not. Amy and Patrick will take most of what is not going with me. They will get movers to take the lot back to a storage unit in their own state to wait for their new places with empty rooms. In the meantime I am to make a list of all that goes into that moving van or the backs of their cars on their trips down to lend a hand.

This morning three very heavy extra garbage bags went with me to the trash. There is such pleasure on early Sunday mornings loading up the back of my SUV and then lifting it out and up over the edge of the tip bin. The sound of it all banging on the bottom (because I wait until the weekly pick up truck has left just before I get there) is very satisfying. There are such interesting discoveries under the cat hair and dust bunnies of my closets….often with the question, “Why am I saving THAT?”

The early morning walks clear my head for what I need to decide to rid myself of that day.

And the only things I bring inside are the bits so beautiful they need to be drawn into my journal.

The large wooden bowl in the center of the dining room table fills with these pieces until I can get to them. Day before yesterday I found some bits from Australia stuck behind the teapot in the cupboard. Half of them are on this page. The other half are waiting to go in next.

I have stitched up more patches for the journal. When I finish with this one I will go get one of the large blank journals I made years ago and work with watercolors illustrating the muddling of my mind as I make decisions…it will be a conversation of sorts.

Lee is pretty much the same. When I called to check the other day he was still able to eat all of his meals, wheel himself around and was busy talking to his cat. The one they gave him that meows back and occasionally scratches itself. It is a very kind place for him.

Friends are coming mid September from St. Louis. They will spend a few days in the studio and their husbands will hike and maybe do some kitchen duty. I think I will make a lasagna for the freezer, make sangria, stock up on shrimp and pasta and sandwich fixings. And maybe lay out some poetry books to read from after dinner.

Speaking of reading, I finished Louise Penny’s latest Inspector Gamache novel today. I like how she can keep a story going. And appreciate the distraction her books give me. But I need to start making the lists as I go from room to room noting what goes with me and what goes off to the kids. I also need to get back to the builder to answer some questions about getting me closer to a different life.

Another short story might get written as I try escaping lists and garbage bags

Til later…..

How wonderful to get two stuffed envelopes from Australia. From Madeleine came this fun map of Australia to play with and a postcard of the Flinders Ranges tucked in with her very kind words and memories of my times having her in classes. And from Jan a card by famous Nature artist John Wolesley, a stunning hank of six strand cotton thread and more kind words…even an inquiry of whether I needed a resupply of malt extract that is rarely seen available here in the states. Thank you both so much and also those who keep me up to date on their artworks during such trying times of lockdowns and closed borders down under.

Patches who rarely gave me the time of day now wants to stay close to me, even sleeping between me and the edge of the bed.

And a whole crowd of turkeys feeding outside the dining room window.

This morning it was back to the dam for a walk.

This week I have met with a builder/developer of a retirement village not far from here. I have selected the house plan and the extras I think necessary. It is within walking distance to so many things I now drive to. By next Spring I should be selling this home of so many memories and be settling into a new place with new neighbors. Those I have met seem keen to have me join them. It will be different for how Lee and I have lived but at least I get to see another house built around my needs and wants. Our children are both in agreement that it is time to take this step. Almost every home Lee and I have lived in during our fifty odd years together was a home we built to our needs at the time. Now I get to do it one more time…once more smelling fresh timbers being put into place.

There is lots more to clear out of this house or box up to store in closets until I move. Much of it will go north by way of movers and into storage until our kids get into larger homes.

For now I play around on paper where my furniture will fit and how much studio equipment is really necessary…..funny how I want my old drill press but not the bigger etching press. Times change.

This morning I finished up a new shirt/blouse and now all the fabrics are stored in the old shoe makers chest with buttons and notions. It feels good to have related things in one place.

When I finish off The Home Maker, all four of my autobiographical head sculptures will be completed. In the new house they will be placed in museum cases along the top of the old Brasstown Post Office Table….a constant reminder of who I am. Not much of The Traveler anymore, but The Writer, The Printmaker and Home Maker are all still here. I plan on having my own artworks around me and let some of the collections go.

But always there will be drawing and stitching.

Tonight I am actually being picked up to go out to dinner. It has been maybe two years since that has happened. Even meeting two more friends for an outside lunch tomorrow. Invitations have been scarce since dementia and then Covid took over our lives. I am now combing my hair (well sort of) and putting in earrings for such occasions.

Til later….

 

I really like the mysteriousness of this river. It moves slowly and stays quiet. A very good place to think. Such clarity comes shortly after dawn….a sureness that falters as the day goes on and the sun tries to coax in other directions. Isn’t that word “coax” funny looking? Now a word spelled the same way has two syllables and has something to do with technical wiring. The way the letters are arranged doesn’t even remotely look like a word that means gentle persuasion. I am not going to use it again in written text…it just looks odd and isn’t even trying to be gentle.  From now on it will be “persuading with kindness”. Just look at that word “persuading”. Say it out loud and you almost see a hand reaching out to take your own while the word “coax” just sits there like a peculiar lump. I won’t use it again.

Aside from that diversion and getting back to the river…an odd pair enjoying each others’ company.

This morning at the dam I saw this. We shared a knowing of aloneness with a slight nod of the head, then went our separate ways.

Mostly under the overpass at the river there are just rocks but a few times there are small bibles or books offering comfort and an offer to choose another way. This offering caught my eye with the addition of an empty pint of a short-lived diversion.

By the next day half of us will believe someone picked them up in hopes of being saved and the rest of us will think they have landed in the litter bin. Regardless within the week more will be placed under the overpass by a true believer offering salvation.

I have been busy drawing. The fish wine bottles hung outside my studio.

The pocket finds from the river walks.

And my cats, Patches and Sadie.

They watch me closely waiting for me to say things out loud to stop the quiet of being here by ourselves.

Today I mended some clothes and began sewing on my last cut out shirt. I read a bit of poetry from Ted Kooser’s book, Kindest Regards. It is a lovely book of memory and observation. And it feels like a poetry book should feel. Like someone coated the cover with talcum powder. The two hundred plus pages inside are that soft ecru color that just beg to be turned and thumbed and paused over.

Lee is the same. Not as many falls as last week. He keeps to his wheel chair and pushes himself up and down the halls. He eats by himself if the food does not require utensils. The nurse told me that this morning she put his French toast together into a sandwich of sausage which he finished off in no time.

Well I need to go talk to my cats and locate something for dinner.

Til later