When Tim left, I had plans for all sorts of activities. I did a few of them. I also did others that weren’t planned. I killed the time. I’ve been trying to distract myself from the “I’m not in Paris–woe is me” thoughts that ran through my head every time I heard from my conscientious husband.
And really, the only time the trip bothered me was when they were in Paris. As I expected, Munich and London didn’t bother me at all.
Regardless, I did plenty o’stuff. We went to the gorgeous Multnomah Falls, my first real waterfall since I was a kid camping in Canada with my family. I went to an outdoor concert (not a great concert, but…it was outdoors!) and discovered another of Oregon’s delights; very few bugs! I haven’t been swarmed by mosquitos once here, and I’m a mosquito magnet. Even down by the river or in swampy areas, nada!
I worked at the Audubon, weeding and replanting native plant beds. I love working there.
I milked goats and gathered eggs.
I went dancing and learned about yet another form of dancing I want to try — blues dancing.
I went hiking on the coast and nearby rivers, learning how to climb some treacherous rocks without killing myself.
I made cheese! And we’re going to make more!
Sophia and I went to the ocean again, and I learned I can handle her wheelchair in the sand plus the dog, something I wasn’t sure about. The dog is a bit of a spaz.
Sophia made her university selection and committed, so I am now the mother of an Oregon Duck. Feel free to inform me of what that means. I know there’s an “O” in there…
When I was at home, I discovered two new television shows to occupy my brain; The Leftovers and Manhattan. Different subject matter and styles, both rather serious. The Leftovers was recommended by my daughter, who said my son loved it, which is just enough for me to try something once.
But I loved it.
Not least of all because the main character, played by the almost-too-good-looking-to-look-at-without-my-eyes-watering Justin Theroux (anybody else see that she traded up with this guy? Y’all can have Brad Pitt, I prefer Justin). Here is Justin as Kevin, talking to Liv Tyler (who my daughter says she likes because Liv looks like me, a compliment that has ensured my daughter months and months of her favorite food hand delivered to her dorm room).
Just watch the first seven seconds; that’s all I’ve watched. Over and over and over.
Also, the show is really interesting to me. It’s the exploration of what happens after 20% of the population has disappeared, an apparent “Rapture”, but that’s not explicit. Questions of faith and religion and relationships and the meaning of being alive are all covered, in different ways. I’m very curious.
Manhattan is a dramatized version of what happened with the people who were on the Manhattan Project. One episode in, I’m interested in seeing more. I’m not blown away (ack. no nuclear pun intended) but it’s very intriguing.
Tonight is my last night of relative freedom. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I’m going out. After dark. It’s almost seditious of me to say that when my homebody husband is around, but when he’s gone, I’m like a kid chasing fireflies; I’ll stay outside after dark until I drop on the grass from exhaustion.
I miss him. I want to tell him all the funny and nutty and silly and inconsequential thoughts that roll around in my head. I want to hear his voice in real time, in my ear, not in the slightly delayed and weirdly muffled video chats. I want to talk to him for longer than 10 minutes. I want to smell his ginger-ale scent.
He comes back tomorrow. He’ll sleep Wednesday. We’ll be able to talk cogently by Friday, I suspect. In the meantime, I have fireflies to catch.