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7 & 1/2 Acres |
2003-07-12 - 8:55 a.m. How do I start this thing? Get back here to this place? I feel really good right now, this morning. I've been a bit up and down. My dad has this thing he says, always very sincerely and seriously, that he is feeling blue when he is low down and in the dumps. Blue. I'm not feeling blue (right now) but I have been cooking by color. I like a meal to be pretty. Last night it was bright greens and reds and a dark red with yellow. Lots of yellow. Tumeric makes it so. I got stuff to say but can't seem to get there. I've got a dream to put down which says half of it but that just ain't happening. I've been getting so sleepy driving back from tree work in High Point. Nodding off almost. It's surreal to be there--where there is Buddy Black and Severn and France and Mr. J Weir. It seems like a very far away place. And though it has become surreal, I love to do tree work with the fella who hates to do tree work (oh me too brother). I love to watch him wax romatic about it on the way there and then curse it red faced halfway through--he thinks maybe I won't notice. This, I love. And also, like yesterday, when I'm on the wane, he chugs on through and gets it cleaned up so I can go sit and breathe and write out a bill. And I love him for this because he's attuned and cares and checks in and I trust him. And, he's not too proud and will quit when sunburnt and exhausted. He'll tell me how he's really suited to a desk, with a computer with a picture of his dog on it. Oh, he is good. And I am glad they are in High Point. I am glad for them but I miss them too. My mom is strangely wordless about much of this. She says she worries about me. My dad thinks we should send out announcements--to show that it was a mutual agreement--we could both sign it he says. He's some crazy shit. He's worried too though, like he told me what are we going to say on the christmas letter. It'll look strange if all the sudden we don't mention Kathryn anymore. And that we've always been an open family with all of our relatives, etc. Public relations. In my dream, at the theater, sitting and being with this person who I felt just full of happiness with (she was the girl from the coffee shop but not really the girl from the coffee shop), I rubbed my forehead with my middle finger. We were seated to the side so all these folks were seeing us squeeze and holding on each other and we could hear them whisper and gossip. Fuck you, my finger said. Fuck all of you. This made some of them gasp. Others laughed and I knew those were the ones that were my friends. This past week, I've had to hang on to this dream. It's been a rope for me, keeping me to the tree in these moments of sheer joy but also worry and sadness. I am happy and I am clear but I am also weighed down by the facts of the situation. Not my facts--this I feel good about and truthful and honest and respectful and sincere. I'm weighed down by the fact that we two are different now and are in each other's lives differently and that Liam and Sali Rae cried. And that Liam said that we were his best buddies in the whole world (and I can just hear him pronounce whirld and that makes me grin and so sad). What makes me sad is I got to step away from these folks. If I could just be with Liam, I'd be ok. Even just with Sali Rae (though maybe not even Sali Rae). But, I'd have to see all the others and this is what I cannot do right now. I cannot not out of any sort of shame (though there were a couple days there I felt like an ADULTORER--or however you spell that stupid word). Rather, this is out of self preservation. I've offered and given and I didn't quite realize that I was giving myself away. I'm a bit drained. Donna hasn't paid. She's related though Kathryn says even her parents have quit having anything to do with her. Most of it is Mr. Williams money she owes us for. I've been leaving messages but I think she has started screening me (I do know how it is good buddy Sears Roebuck). Anyway, I think I'll simply start with just one limb. If still no check, it'll be just a notch before the whole tree. No clean up of course. I'm a little wiggy writing these threats down here. I'm not one to premeditate. I prefer to make hard decisions clearly and quickly and in the moment. I make decisions and that is it and that's what's done and that gets me through the situation but a week or two later, the feelings come on. My decisions have always been without regret. And though I've always been on a wayward path, given the chance, I wouldn't choose or change anything differently (my dad asked me about that recently--I do think I worry them). I use these decision making skills everyday and it's in my work, and what I do, and how I am. It's just that I'm now a week or two later and it's all catching up to me. The feelings. And now, it's the hard part. This thing, this situation is different. I've got to sit with it and be with it, miss it, and mourn for it. I've also got to accept that I am happy. I'm sad too, but I'm happy. I'm in a good place. It's a little overwhelming and unbelieveable but it's a good place. I'm sad and I'm happy. I say fuck you and that you're important to me. That's to the folks in the theater. To the folks in High Point, I say, I'm glad that you're in High Point, I miss you and I love you. And to the one who calls me Louise, ahh, you make me swoon, stretch and very, very happy to cook.
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