Sunday, September 21, 2014

Turn-around

Flying by

Home, sweet turn-around. We've just got back from Portland, Oregon. It was the last leg of a four month journey and the Big Event, the birth of Baby Chance, Supermoon Boy. Now we're back in Nevada. It's home but feels more like a traffic circle. Nevertheless, we have long-time friends here, our "stuff" is here, the Bird Park is here. Things are where and the way they are supposed to be. Maggie, aka the 7 o'clock magpie, showed up for peanuts the first morning we were back and, at the moment, sparrows fill the bushes and trees and several are enjoying a raucous dust bath party on the ground.

Squirrel underpants

And then there's my office. In case you've ever wondered where the center of the Universe is, cluttered though it be, it's my office. And, for the moment, I am there ... here. But not for long. We are leaving again at the beginning of October and won't be back until mid-January. Of course I'll still be here, the Language Barrier that is. It's home everywhere. And home is where the heart is..... which is family.

Cousins Thea, Leo and Frank

Baby Chance and Dad

Our ultimate destination is Thailand for three months. I guess it's fair to say we're in a rut. We were also there last year for three months. Yes. There is a whole big world out there, and time is running out, but we really like Thailand. But before Thailand, we're going to New York with Lee's mom for a brief visit and after that we'll all go to LA for a few days. Then she returns home and we return to Thailand. At this point, we're there more than anywhere else.

My pot

Life is strange. I never thought I'd be traveling like this. Several years ago, starting over and dirt poor, I bought a small copper-bottomed sauce pan at a secondhand store. I was delighted. It was a good omen. Revere Ware. My mother always said it was the best. I was still with my then-husband but, in fact, was more like a single mom raising three kids. A lot of meals came out of that pot, all though their childhood. And, being the absent-minded type, I burned a lot of food in it. However, I pride myself on always restoring it to some semblance of it's original secondhand glory. Now, 30 years later, a little worn though it be, all things being equal, it's still got a ways to go. I cooked my oatmeal in it this morning. 

5 comments:

Roy said...
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Roy said...

I already feel like you splitting your time between Florida and Oregon makes you an expatriate while we here in the "Contiguous Forty-six," from Idaho to shining Alabama deal with tornados and Nascar (anything that goes round and round, I guess) and such. But, I see the attraction.
My mother always bought "the good stuff," whatever that was. I remember those copper-bottom pots and pans

asha said...

It's effected me too. I don't feel like I "live" anywhere anymore. Nothing is mine. Nothing has any personal history. Wherever I go, I'm a stranger, a ghost. It's not bad, freeing actually, but very odd.

Roy said...

As if once you are able to eliminate the imaginary and extraneous, this is what's left. It seems freeing, but a little sad to me.

asha said...

Yes. And it does, at times, feel a bit sad or nostalgic but that doesn't last long. Traveling, like we are at the moment, really emphasizes the temporary nature of all things and, after a lifetime of fussing over "stuff", that's actually a relief. I do feel like a ghost sometimes. A less dramatic word is observer but, you know me, I go for the draaaama. OTOH, I don't feel like a vampire, which is a good thing. :-)