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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking Can't we give ourselves one more chance Why can't we give love that one more chance Why can't we give love (give love give love give love.....) 'Cause love's such an old fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the edge of the night And love dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is ourselves Under pressure -- "Under Pressure" by David Bowie / Queen Dear Friends, I have been a bad blogger. I started by scorching through here in early 2007, pompous California landowner, words tripping on words, as self-indulgent as can be. I blew my entire (figurative) wad on a quintet of really fun pieces; only to end up finding myself facing an unexpected quandary: a life change. And, it’s not just a life change: shit no! I find I’m leaving California and turning my entire life on its ear. Before I know it, I’ve dismantled my life, finding myself standing in the sunshine, shouting directions for where to put boxes, carefully saving the delicate shards of my relationship, wrapping it in tissue paper, hoping it will survive til a later time, lying it alongside those firm handshakes, those St. Patrick’s Day memories, memories of innocence lost, babies born…empires built, a marriage broken. Mementos of a Mexican seaside, of ozone-flavored sunshine; icy New Zealand lakes and misty Irish fields, all lost…all treasured, all part of my life, all to be packed away for later. Hoping they survive til I get home. I find myself saying, Pack them all well, for you turn fifty this year, lassie. Pack your youth well, for if you forget it now, you’ll never retrieve it again. I raced against time in September; painting, carpeting, getting my house ready to sell in record time. I found a house in Michigan. The market turned to shit; I barely stayed ahead of it. I got really, really lucky; somebody bought my house before it even hit the market. Thoughts turned to Michigan: acreage on the river. Swans, ducks, a red-tailed hawk and a house in an oak forest. Cross myself three times and spit on the ground; I was one lucky Kitty. My God, my patron saint, my karma – whatever you call it – was watching over me. Another of my nine lives. So, imagine this. You’re 49 years old, and suddenly you’re free again. You don’t own a thing; you have your 12-year-old kid at your side, a wad of money in your wallet, a GM Suburban at your disposal, and you are facing the indescribable pleasure of a road trip. California to Michigan, running from your old life to your new….or, is it from your new life to your old? In the turning of the wheel, who can say? I worked like a madwoman. I packed bird food, settled cages, shoved tranquilizers down little cat throats. My eighteen-year-old daughter stood on the curb, lip quivering, brown eyes glassy with tears, waving goodbye to her mother and the only life she’s ever known. She’s staying in California; as a privileged, 21st Century American girl, she can do that; she doesn’t accept compromise. It is a different lesson our offspring will learn, and we are no less for not comprehending what they see that we do not. History will judge us. We left, driving across the Carquinas Bridge, to David Bowie and Queen, singing... (guess) ... Under pressure. The crossing was a blur; while worth fond memories, it is best because it is over. There was a breathtaking moment outside of Salt Lake City when we turned a corner and a mountain the size of God appeared in the blue morning. The next night we traversed a snowy summit outside Cheyenne, Wyoming, sleet slanting across the headlights as the caravan followed one anothers' tails through the mountainy night. Coming home into Grand Rapids at 5PM on a Monday night; joining the rush hour traffic as though nothing had happened -- as though thirty years had never passed -- giggling madly to myself to be home, home-home-home like ET, home again home again, jiggety-jig. In the days since then I have sat in my aerie, overlooking the Thornapple River, and counted the swans. My son comes home from school, content in his role as strongman, knowing that the schools are better here, and hence, expectations have raised a notch, but equally content in the knowledge that he has risen to the challenge. He is expected to understand respect; but equally, he is expected to be a son, and to enjoy his youth. Between the snow and the brilliant sky, I have become intensely color-sensitive again: sky-blue, black trees, white snow, and the occasional red flash of the cardinal, are all I know. Closing my eyes, it is heady stuff. It is quite enough, to know that such rich experiences are what we get in an American life. How time flies, my friends. And for all the time the journey has taken, how I have needed every minute to know what the road passes by. |
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1/25/2008 10:12 pm |
What a beautiful story....beautiful....you tell it so very well... amazing the twists and turns life takes... mine is taking a wonderful turn as well.... not sure where it will lead, but I really like the path I'm on... Wishing you happiness Misty
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1/25/2008 10:49 pm |
 If you can't convince them, confuse them!
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1/26/2008 2:07 am |
Wishing you all the best and much happiness in your new life. Melt. Flow. Evaporate into the bright sky 
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1/26/2008 3:38 am |
hi LK, I am aware, and I have been told, how amazing it is, that life turns this circle. like you returning home, my life will change, and I will return to the roots of my youth, and into the arms of my youth. it's neat, it feels complete, yet sometimes I step back, shake my head in disbelief and say thankyou. mark.
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 1/26/2008 11:56 am |
it is a new life, even if the place is known, the time is different as the experiences you carry with you. Wish you happiness!
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1/26/2008 11:58 am |
hi LK, I am aware, and I have been told, how amazing it is, that life turns this circle. like you returning home, my life will change, and I will return to the roots of my youth, and into the arms of my youth. it's neat, it feels complete, yet sometimes I step back, shake my head in disbelief and say thankyou. mark.All the best to you, my state-mate. A toast to the snow. LK
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1/26/2008 12:35 pm |
it is a new life, even if the place is known, the time is different as the experiences you carry with you. Wish you happiness! Now THAT is cool.  Thanks for reading. LK
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1/26/2008 12:39 pm |
What a beautiful story....beautiful....you tell it so very well... amazing the twists and turns life takes... mine is taking a wonderful turn as well.... not sure where it will lead, but I really like the path I'm on... Good luck, friend, and as I pick up the threads of my friendships, I will watch for your story. LK
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1/26/2008 12:43 pm |
To all who have taken pains to comment: thank you for reading. I need to acknowledge Dag Hammarskjold, who originally said "How long the road is. But, for all the time the journey has already taken, how you hve needed every second of it in order to learn what the road passes by." In my house, I have a great picture with this great Dag quote. I've looked at it most days of my life -- so many days that it popped out in my blogging. I want to make sure Dag gets credit. LK
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1/30/2008 1:47 pm |
A Kitty in an aerie. There's something you don't see every day. Great post m'lady. I can indeed imagine knockin on fifty's door and facing a new life. Uhm except for the wad of money..... Enjoy the ride. All you take with you when you leave is the experience.
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1/30/2008 5:42 pm |
A Kitty in an aerie. There's something you don't see every day. Great post m'lady. I can indeed imagine knockin on fifty's door and facing a new life. Uhm except for the wad of money..... How clever of you to note the Kitty in an aerie, counting swans. Much like a lion lying down by a lamb. It's the marvelous way of the Universe. LK
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1/30/2008 10:39 pm |
Loving the white in the beard. New picture, James? Matches my mane. Forever imagining you as knight and protector. It's an old wish of mine. How clever of you to note the Kitty in an aerie, counting swans. Much like a lion lying down by a lamb. It's the marvelous way of the Universe. LK The lion and the lamb is the theme in Camelot. I think I may have mentioned about my bird Sinbad who used to roam the floor in front of my cat. Here the rule is if you don't need to harm it to survive, make friends with it. My neighbors don't like it when I apply that rule to the weeds in my yard.  Enjoy the ride. All you take with you when you leave is the experience.
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2/12/2008 9:22 pm |
Check out the Hidden Meaning !!!! Kurt 
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2/13/2008 6:13 pm |
<<<did it, Kurt....hoping you love it! How much fun. LK
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