waiting to wait

I came home from work to a silent sitting house. The math was wrong; all the cars and the bikes accounted for yet there was no reply to my calling. 

Before I left BC had asked, "What do I do with her?" her, meaning Beach. He sounded like a new father. Had it really been all that long since I had left them together, floating, without structure or task?

I filled the waiting time with cleaning. It was like the slightly too long last chapter of a book. Stuff to do, answers waiting.

Eventually the dogs gave them away. I caught sight of them while hanging laundry. Moving slowly out beyond the lawn, pass the structured garden space with its fences and rows, coming from the wild backfield. Walking with big weaving steps through the tall grass. Buckets and berries and butterflies- left to his own devices he casts an unmistakable air of New England. Penciled drawings, rolled up jeans, bare feet, and summer bounty.

It is the second time in 2 days I have thought with my heart "I'm not sure I am capable of letting him go..." and yet my head knows he will have to go do what he dreams of doing.  I am being to understand what lays before us. A novel of waiting for him to return. 

swimming in the thin blue

It's a big place, the north desert. 

The sky stretches to the point of breaking. 

Miles of thin blue and deep white.

 Forever is out there. 

 The roads are forever, the horizon, the sand, and the salt.

The day is forever. 

Out there the clouds dance with the sky while the sun sits back and watches.

Life is long and lean and inside out.  

Oceans made of sand and waves of tumbleweeds. 

Showers of sunlight.  Driftwood ghosts.  

I am sure it is the hallway to heaven... &/or hell.

But between those two doors there is life. Wild and unencumbered. 

A playground made of black rocks and white bones.

"If you had a little place out here, a house tucked into the saddle of one of these hillsides how long do you think you could stay out here alone?" he asked me.

"Forever."

I could live there, sheltered by isolation. 

I could sit quietly and let my soul dry out. 

Never have to pretend to anything to anyone.

Because in the north desert...

I am overwhelmingly happy.

 Forever swimming in the thin blue.

conquering the to don't list one day at a time

"Mist, first thing that pops into your head: 

something you are afraid of doing?"

"Getting really drunk and digging up my dog's body."

*turns out that was the wrong answer*

zombie

 Sometimes life can push me around a bit. Mostly I’m pretty easy going, yet I can be emotional and tremendously thin skinned. Pair that with a short enough attention span and staying down/hurt/mad too long isn‘t possible. 

Sometimes when life pushes I like to push back- that is when BC steps in with all his questions and comments. Like "Do you think running 2x a day is a good idea?" and " Beer is not a recover drink."

And then there is this:

"Yes-but what are YOU having for breakfast Misty Brown?" 

"Strawberries & yogurt." 

"We don't have strawberries." 

"Then I am having breakfast in my mind."

"No, there will no mind eating today."

Yes Dear, whatever you say....