Homecoming
It's been quite a rough few weeks preparing for my beau to leave for his band's tour then enduring his absence. I told myself I would write more, go on a cleanse, build a rocking chair, make a dress, bake and do all kinds of things. What did I do?? I drank too much, cried too much, worked too much and slept not at all. Sigh. Every day is a chance to start again, however. Thank Goodness.
So here I am, Saturday night on the fourth of July with a glass of wine in one hand and a happy dog at my feet while my love plays melodies on the guitar and I write to you fine folks. I feel as though nothing could ever really upset me again, though I know that is untrue and impossible. There is always an ill wind ready to take to the air. My birthday is coming up soon and so soon after that will be my move to Richmond. I am scared and excited all at once. I have so much to do but none of it can be done quite yet. I need to split myself in two to make it happen.
Earlier, the fireworks began and the shop emptied entirely save the musician playing and my coworkers. We decided to climb the fire escape and watch them light the sky and the black of our eyes. As I watched the colors fly and felt the booms reverberate off the parking garage and walls around me, I thought of cannon fire and heated discussions behind closed doors. I thought of Whigs and Tories and Rebels and Yanks. I thought of Scots, kilted and fighting for America because of their own oppression. Those people, MY people, those Scots who had been oppressed by England, they came to this new land to escape that tyranny and to let their own colors fly. Resplendent in tartans from every clan, they lost their lives fighting once again, for freedom. So many other countries fought for us and against us than just colonists and Brits. I think we forgot, often, how much our country was founded by a whole melting pot of humanity.
I digress.
Tonight as the wine mixes with my blood and fogs my head, I am thankful for every human, every day, every hardship and every night and every sunlit morn. No matter what soil we stand upon, we've always a new day.
I will check in soon. I miss you all.
Slainte
BRM
So here I am, Saturday night on the fourth of July with a glass of wine in one hand and a happy dog at my feet while my love plays melodies on the guitar and I write to you fine folks. I feel as though nothing could ever really upset me again, though I know that is untrue and impossible. There is always an ill wind ready to take to the air. My birthday is coming up soon and so soon after that will be my move to Richmond. I am scared and excited all at once. I have so much to do but none of it can be done quite yet. I need to split myself in two to make it happen.
Earlier, the fireworks began and the shop emptied entirely save the musician playing and my coworkers. We decided to climb the fire escape and watch them light the sky and the black of our eyes. As I watched the colors fly and felt the booms reverberate off the parking garage and walls around me, I thought of cannon fire and heated discussions behind closed doors. I thought of Whigs and Tories and Rebels and Yanks. I thought of Scots, kilted and fighting for America because of their own oppression. Those people, MY people, those Scots who had been oppressed by England, they came to this new land to escape that tyranny and to let their own colors fly. Resplendent in tartans from every clan, they lost their lives fighting once again, for freedom. So many other countries fought for us and against us than just colonists and Brits. I think we forgot, often, how much our country was founded by a whole melting pot of humanity.
I digress.
Tonight as the wine mixes with my blood and fogs my head, I am thankful for every human, every day, every hardship and every night and every sunlit morn. No matter what soil we stand upon, we've always a new day.
I will check in soon. I miss you all.
Slainte
BRM
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