OB is a friend of mine. He is a journeyer (that should be a word). He is on a journey. As he talks about his life, it seems from a very young age his decisions were made to put him right where he is at this moment. Very happy. He lives in his 5th wheel. It is one of those places that has a drop gate in the back and he can drive his Harley's up in the back, close the doors and off he goes on his journey.
He does not seem like someone who is missing the trip to get somewhere. He seems to appreciate each day and to move when and where he wants. The world is full of people who call him friend and he rides his Harley's and goes to bike rallies and drinks beer and listens to music and does the things people do at bike rallies. Which in my experience is to talk to other people about their bikes, listen to music and drink beer. This is what he has always wanted to do, and he is living the life fully and completely. I am just once again so very very lucky to have met him on his journey and to call him a friend.
And he is the best kind of friend you could want. He is funny and smart and can fix anything. He has been very busy here because there are lots of things to fix. He lives in his 5th wheel under the canopy of hardwood trees in my front yard, where azaleas surround his little campsite and where he is quite self sufficient. I live next door in my single wide trailer. The only difference is my does not move, which suits me well, and his does, which suits him well. He has always wanted to have the life he has. I have always wanted to have the life I have. I have always wanted to pretend I was a farmer, and I do a fine job of that these days. As OB fixes motors and fences, electrical and gas problems, I pull weeds and plant vegetables. As he scratches his head over electrical wiring on my airstream, I hang laundry and stare at my flowers and feed the chickens and tell the seven new babies how big they are getting. They are big enough for names, Hyacinth, Iris, Daisy, Snap Dragon, Marigold, Cosmos and Chrysanthemum. They are getting so big and doing fine. They have made a lovely little flock and look through the door at the other flock, that one day they will become a part of. The older hens and John C are also do very well. They are laying between 4 - 6 eggs a day. Oh my, too many eggs, and I go and get more hens. duh!
I have been reading the Rick Riordan series that my 11 year old nephew has been reading. It has been such a fun read. I have cleaned and worked on small projects around the house, and worked on projects for the Murder Mystery.
I played the virgin Mary in a short little gospel play at Ron and Pat's Micosukee Methodist Church Easter Sunday. I considered wearing a fire extinguisher strapped to my leg, but it turned out I didn't need one. I have been riding on a Harley, and took Flat Reid for a ride to St. Mark's. Flat Reid is my sister Sioux's grandson. Or rather the paper doll he made of himself after he read the book, Flat Stanley.
I made Flat Reid a little paper doll helmet to wear on the motorcycle ride. We have been tie dying and I made him a little paper doll tie dye shirt that matches the one I made for normal Reid. I took him to closing day of The Fantastick's and got a photo of him with the cast.
And yet, I have been thinking a lot. Something is weighing on me. I feel like I have a big decision to make, but I am not sure what that is. I feel as if wonderful possibilities are coming, but they may not be what I would expect I just don't know. I feel fine, but alert. Like I need to be watching out for something. I don't feel anxious or crazy, just anticipatory. It is odd to feel so certain that there are decisions I have to make and not know what they are, or even really what it is about.
Why is that keeping me from simply writing out all the wonderful things I am doing with my life right now? I am not sure. Why am I reluctant to talk on the phone or to share myself with others right now? I do not know I do not know why I feel this way, or what is going to happen or when, or if this is something more inside then outside. I do not know. I feel fine not knowing everything. When it is time I will understand better, maybe.
So, I am here. I have not quit thinking about my precious beloved ones, I just can't seem to be social. Even at rehearsal I find myself longing to be quiet, to fulfill my duties and responsibilities to the Director and the cast and crew, but I feel like I am looking in at them as they sing and act, move across the floor. Watch as they become other people. Watch as they struggle to get used to the stage, and to build muscle memory of where to stand and when to move. They are doing a wonderful job. I am so happy to be even a small part of this group. But I feel like I am holding back something. But it feels good. It feels like they can, will and are doing what they need. I don't have to do much, just be there and appreciate the moments. Moments that my senses become sparklingly alive. Where I am aware that my senses are working together in HD instead of black and white. That sounds are in quad instead of stereo, that light is brighter, more colorful, more acute. That smells, and touch and taste are more acute. That everything is preparing, for what? I do not know. Maybe this is just who I am now. Maybe I have learned to be more alert, to live more in the moment, and this is my reward. Nothing more. But maybe.
Maybe there is something still yet to come
Maybe there is a decision I have to make
Maybe there are some new and wondrous possibilities just around the corner
Maybe it is just spring