I wrote a diary last night:
Grandma's farmhouse is gone
So many of you wrote comments,
telling me I touched a place inside you,
helped bring into focus
your past,
your present.
I'm so grateful you wrote comments,
so glad I made you feel something,
something you haven't felt in a while,
if ever.
So, how do I follow that?
With today's events,
as always.
Joy at the start,
fear in the journey,
joy in the coming home.
A part of the heart
is lost in the learning,
somewhere along the road.
Dan Fogelberg
Those were the words I was singing,
as we arrived back in Wichita,
back from Missouri.
After five days together,
day and night,
Tonia had started getting on my nerves.
But then,
I get on her nerves,
as well,
she reminds me.
Now my neighbor,
the other Mark,
on the other hand,
is glad I'm home.
I asked him for a bottle of liquor,
and he turned it into five or ten phone calls.
I finally got two bottles of pear schnapps.
I get to buy him a bottle of hot damn schnapps tomorrow.
This man has nothing more exciting to do
than to call me,
for any little reason.
One of his calls was to tell me the schnapps are located
near the beer cooler,
not the pint bottle behind the counter.
Yes, Mark.
Another call,
"get me two boxes of fudge bars,
when you get a chance."
That man lives on
cigarettes,
fudge bars,
and phone calls
to me.
Break.
Bev called me,
and I asked to come over,
to her apartment,
next door,
and she said no,
she's already in bed,
at 8:30 PM.
She acts afraid,
afraid to interrupt
Tonia's visit with me.
(Tonia is staying one more night with me,
I'm taking her to her house tomorrow.)
Bob is here,
and my little dog,
Rowdy Joe,
and my cockatiel,
Chong.
Bob and Tonia had a nice, long conversation,
about experiences
on the streets,
as they say.
I ate four boiled hot dogs,
split,
on bread,
with mayo and mustard.
For dessert,
pnut butr
on cinamon rolls,
with milk,
and pear schnapps.
Now,
cherries and water,
to finish
for the night.
Break.
For all of you reading
who have ever been on a trip,
and felt the feeling
of a different place,
smaller towns than your home,
or bigger cities,
for all of you,
we were so eager to go,
but so glad to get back.
Feel it,
savor it.
Thanks for reading.
Special update
for
The Eyewitness Muse,
in response to the comment from last night:
My grandma,
and my parents,
always had subscriptions to
National Geographic.
I still feel it's the best magazine I've ever read,
and looked at.
The pictures,
and the information,
the wealth of information,
is the greatest I'm aware of.
I have several National Geographic maps on my walls,
including a map of the known universe,
in general,
and the place of Earth in it.
I looked at a lot of those magazines,
while in the featherbed
in Grandma's upstairs bedrooms.
I still have a lot of them,
and I recently read,
from cover to cover,
an issue from the sixties,
salvaged from grandma's house.
Yes, you are so right,
through magazines at grandma's house,
we learned about the world.