Christmas and life....

I'm wishing I had more insight and understanding about all the hows and whys of our feelings. Maybe if we understood and could better define our innermost feelings, we could explain ourselves out of the pain. Maybe.

Normally, I keep my soul angst to myself, and at most, share with my sister or a trusted friend, but there is a voice inside telling me I need to allow my meandering spirit to share the sadness I'm feeling this Christmas season. I don't know why...but maybe I'm finally old enough and wise enough to just allow this voice to lead me.

For some reason, I'm just really missing my mom this Christmas. Going into the season, I was feeling an emptiness that I didn't understand and can't explain. I wanted to put off getting a tree and then once we got it, wanted to wait to bring it in, and once we brought it in, wanted to wait a little while before we decorated it. Once we started to decorate it, wanted to stretch it out as long as it made some kind of sense to do so. Throughout the decorating stage, I listened to Christmas music from the seasonal music channel and so much of it was from the 40's and 50's...Perry Como, Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, etc....which, of course reminded me even more of my mom. She loved Christmas music and that's one of the many things she passed along to me.

But...I listen to this music every year..why is this year different? No answer. My mom was a very quiet person...in a beautiful sort of way. She loved Christmas, but it was never about the gifts with her...it was the music and the love of being with the family she loved with every fiber of her being. She made cookies and cakes and she decorated the house, not in the way any professional would approve, but we loved it. We always had a big tree and the decorations were a combination of the things we, kids, had made in school and some glass bulbs and angels and lights, multi colored, and a star on top and ice cycles everywhere...carefully placed on each branch. It was always a magical tree. Once we were grown, my mom and dad switched to an artificial tree, but although it wasn't quite the same...the magic was still there. Of course!

The mantle was decorated with candles and little elves and there was always a poinsettia somewhere. Nothing extravagant or fancy...just a regular middle-class home decorated with a mother's love.

Extravagance didn't come under the tree either. There were 5 kids and my dad's salary only went so far. There was also a much beloved family member who sometimes needed a little extra Santa help and my mom and dad were always there to share whatever they could. But, to my memory, we were happy with what we got and if one of us felt deprived, I never heard about it. And, no one ever said anything about the halloween candy that mysteriously appeared in the stockings that hung on the mantle.

My mom loved Christmas and she taught us that it was more about what was in the heart than what was under the tree. What a beautiful gift that was. What a beautiful gift she was.

So, I can't say I've answered my question about why the loss of mom is more painful this year, but I can say that, in a sense, I feel thankful for the pain because it makes me remember all the more about the Christmases that we Wilkinson's had. And, I feel the love that mom had for all of us as she went about filling our home with the wonderful scents of cookies and cakes and the magical Christmas tree and the soft and gentle sounds of Christmas songs playing on the stereo. Most of all, she filled our home with her love...and that is something that never leaves any of us. We carry it with us forever. Thank you, Mom.

So now that I've written this all out, I think I understand a little more....definitely, I get why I made so many more cookies than I've made since my children were home. Looks like my mom is hanging out with me this Christmas and I'm just going to enjoy her company and maybe just go make some more cookies. And, somewhere there must be an elf to hang on the little make believe fireplace we have. Oh, and I have to pull out the Perry Como Christmas CD. Christmas ain't really Christmas without Mr. Como, right?

But, most of all....I need to go get the green glass bulb that was on every Christmas tree since I was 5 years old. It's tiny and fragile and has faded stars on it. This Christmas I didn't hang it because I thought it would just make me even more sad. I know better now. It will be like putting my mom's love right where it belongs.

So...my spirit has meandered back to a calmer and gentler place. Thank you for listening. I hope your holidays are filled with love and beautiful memories, and if you're carrying extra sadness this year, I wish you peace and hope for the new year. Merry Everything, y'all.

Meandering on "normal"...

I've been thinking about just what the word "normal" really means and if there is any part of this label that might possibly include me. Per Webster's International Dictionary, the definition is...typical...usual...standard..sane. Hmmm.

Typical? What, exactly, does that mean? Well, back to Webster...he says it means... characteristic of a group or type. Huh? So, if I'm a card carrying White Supremacist, I'm typical, ie. normal and sane? WTF???

Usual? Back to Websters we must go. He says... customary or common. Well, as a Southern gal, I know I'm not common because my mama told me so, and we just never were allowed to associate with common folk. Probably, Webster is from the North and doesn't understand these things.

Customary= usual or according to custom. No real progress with this one, right?

Sane...ah, here we go again. On my facebook profile, I claim to be relatively sane, and damn proud of it. Does that make me relatively normal? Checking out Mr. Webster, one more time, and he says... sane means having a sound mind. Hmmm. Again, per Mr. W... sound, as an adjective, means...healthy, free from flaw, decay, etc., correct or logical.

I'm getting a little worried here. I think I'm relatively healthy, mentally speaking, but free from flaw or decay may be a few too many steps outside my relatively speaking realm. And, let's be honest here...correct is a relative term...we each have our own ideas about what's correct and what's not, right? But, regarding the logical....even in my most sane state, logic is simply not, typically, a huge part of the equation.

Which takes me right back to where I started. Raise your hand if you never felt quite "normal".

If you're following this blog, I'm pretty sure you're raising your hand about now. But, after reading all the words that Webster used to describe "normal"...I'm feeling thankful to be somewhat outside the norm. Did you ever think if you just were a wee bit more "normal", life would be easier and just not so... untypical? Growing up, did you feel like you were on the outside looking in? And, conversely, did you ever feel like you were on the inside looking out?

If your answer is yes and yes, how do you feel about that?

Maybe we are normal... characteristic within our own group. Are we a group of normal abnormalities? Or, are we just deluding ourselves by thinking we're somehow different from the lot...somehow, we're special? You know, I'm not even looking for answers...the truth is...we all have our own questions and must find a way to figure out our own answers. So...I'm just going to leave it to you to work all this out in whatever way is best for you. As for me...I'm going to have another glass of wine and watch a movie.

Happy meanderings.

Chapel Hill

Just got home from Chapel Hill, and like the old song about San Francisco, I think I left my heart in Chapel Hill. Well, at least at Trader Joe's in Chapel Hill and possibly at the little book shop next door to Foster's Market, and, of course, a little bit remains at the Hampton Inn...not so much a funky motel, but a motel all the same.

Let me tell you about Trader Joe's in CH. First of all, you walk in and the very first thing is you are surrounded by flowers...wonderfully beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes and smells. Ahhh..I love that! The next thing that encompasses you is the music...way cool old time rock and roll! Ohhhh yeah! The first ten minutes there, all I really wanted was to find someone who, like me, just wanted to dance. I would have danced with anyone...and the sad thing is...no one asked...and even sadder...I didn't ask anyone! How fun it would have been if I had the courage to find someone who looked like they were enjoying the music as much as I and just say...hey...do ya wanta dance? Just imagine dancing through the aisles as you shopped for exotic Indian sauces and delicious Trader Joe's soups, reasonably priced spices and chocolate covered cranberries. Next you shag on over to the wine section, but first a stop by the freebie station for a taste of the heavenly date bread and a tiny little piece of apple cured bacon..or something like that....whatever it was...it was super yum...I have to admit I went back for seconds when the demo lady was away from her table.

So, why didn't I ask someone to dance...or just tell the lady I really needed another taste of her delicious freebies which, because they weren't part of my regular diet, I couldn't purchase them, but they was so good I just had to have seconds. If I had done that, she may have offered me thirds! See what we do to ourselves when we're too timid to ask for what we really want! WTF??? I'm 67...shouldn't I know this by now?

The book shop...Flyleaf Books...isn't that a great name?...was amazing. They set it up in many different sections which made it really easy to find books you like without going through a bunch that you really don't like. Best of all were the numerous shelves of second hand books. Nirvana! I found two treasures...one about stories from the South, and the other ... workouts for the brain! I'll be sure and let you know how these workouts actually work. Essentially, I loved the energy of this Indy book shop...very much like our own Pomegranate Books, just a little bigger. I'm so glad there are a few Indies still alive and reasonably well. We all need to remember to give them as much business as we can because to lose them would be like losing a piece of our very own soul.

OK...the Hampton Inn. Yeah, it's not a funky motel, but it's a sweet little motel tucked in a quiet little section of Chapel Hill and surrounded by trees..many of which have the cutest little bird houses hanging from the branches. That's kinda funky, don't you think? And...one night I went out to get some ice and right there in a tree beside our room was this huge raccoon. This is the first raccoon I've ever seen live and in person. I startled him just about as much as he startled me and he went scampering back up the tree. I told Dave about it and he says...are you sure it wasn't a possum? Men! Even though I'm not exactly Mz. Nature Girl, I do know the difference between a raccoon and a possum. Possum's don't have striped tails, for crying out loud!

In the afternoon, and sometimes at night, they have chocolate chip cookies in the lobby and I love going in and picking up a couple cookies and getting some hot water and a tea bag...green tea, of course... and coming back to the room, fluffing up the pillows and laying back to watch Oprah while I sip my tea and munch on the cookies. Heaven!

I can't quite explain, even to myself, why I have this passion for motel rooms and that's probably a good thing. Sometimes we understand things in life all too well and sometimes, too much knowledge can be a real spoiler, you know?

Chapel Hill is full of fun and funk, beauty and grace, history and cutting edge...and nice, friendly people. There's an energy to it that makes me want to stand up a littler straighter and pay a little more attention to what's going on around me. If only, it had an ocean within hearing distance. Meanwhile, I'm sure we'll be back fairly soon. It is basketball season, you know!

It's two months and approximately 14 days since my last post..or pretty close to that, and please tell me, does it really matter?

Why did it take me so long to get back on track with my writing? A: Life, B: Laziness, C: Introspection, D: Fear, E: All of the above. Again, please tell me, does it really matter?

My plan was to come home and recap the trip before it all became a dream. I wanted to tell you all the little details, like...the food...the incredible thrift store finds...just a summation of the trip, as a whole. But now, it is becoming more and more, as my son warned, like a dream. What did we eat and where did we eat it? Lots of Mexican food...the dinner at the Afghanistan restaurant in San Francisco...the ribs in Memphis...the Arby's turkey sandwiches on whole wheat bread...the yogurt parfaits from...OMG...are you ready???..McDonalds!! So...looking back, what we ate and where we ate it...please tell me, does it really matter?

The thrift stores were incredible...big finds with labels like j.jill and Eileen Fisher and some that may come from other big name fashion folks, but how would I know? It's all about the fun of finding good prices...fun and funky clothes you just don't find around here. So...please tell me, does anything else really matter? Who cares what the label says or what the cost was...I liked them and they were cheap! End of story.

It's hard to know quite where to go from here. I'm home and things are back to normal and that's good, right? The part of me who loves home and hearth...well, we don't really have a hearth...but, does that really matter? We have a deck! So, it's very fine to be back to home and deck. It feels safe and secure and, here, I know I am loved by hubby and dog and despite the mosquitoes, I really do love it here....and oh how I do love them.

But...I have to admit that my spirit does not rest for long...it still meanders. My brother, Tim, from Charlotte, was visiting with us this week and a couple days ago we rode the ferry to Southport. I love that ferry ride...it's like a mini cruise..only better, because I don't get seasick.

We walked through the beautiful little town of Southport and had lunch at Trolly Stop....hot dog heaven...they even have veggie dogs. From there, we walked down to the river, sat down on one of the swings and just watched life rolling by. I felt like I could have sat in that swing and watched that river for the rest of my life. The longer I sat there, the more my meandering spirit took hold and I realized that this meandering Cape Fear River was singing my song. It was just going wherever it was meant to be and it was in no hurry to get there. A gypsy kind of river.

So, now, my brother is gone back to Charlotte and I'm right back here at home and deck. The Tarheel game is getting ready to come on...Dave's back there eating dinner on the TV tray and listening to the pre-game chatter...Sadie's chomping on her dinner treat and I'm drinking wine and chowing down on my veggie burger. And...somewhere out there...in this beautiful country of ours...is a quaint, little motel calling my name....

Sea To Shining Sea

A couple days ago, I went to the beach for the first time since I got back from my "big adventure." It felt so good to put my feet into "my ocean".

My original plan was, once I got back on the island, to hit the beach before I even came home....but, in my anticipation of being with Dave and Sadie, I nixed that idea long before I reached Snow's Cut bridge. This was a good decision...for many reasons.

Another reason ...as happy as I was to be back with my guy and puppy, I wasn't quite prepared to declare myself officially "back". If you've been on a mind (and spirit) bending trip, you know exactly what I mean. There's a part of me that yearns to remain on the road and see what the next bend in the highway may offer. It could be a huge pasture of windmills which looks like a family of aliens from some far, far away, but very friendly, planet. Or...maybe a beautiful field of amber waves of grain... or possibly, the glorious purple mountains majesty...and even a slight chance of the delicious fruited plains. Or...maybe just this little ol' funky motel that beckons your spirit and invites you in for the night. You just never know, do you?

Looks like the gypsy in me will always be there, whispering gently in my ear about all the many wondrous experiences waiting just around the next bend. I've learned that sometimes I must listen to my gypsy soul because it is as much a part of me as anything else and to deny it, is to deny who I am and what I am, and most certainly, why I am.

It seems that I've lived most of my life with one foot in and one foot out of wherever I was. Commitment, to a place, comes hard for me. This seems so contrary to the military child who so envied her friends who lived in one place all their lives and still had the same friends from early childhood. When I was little, I used to wish that for myself with all my heart. I prayed that my dad would be fired from the navy so we wouldn't have to move anymore. In 7th grade, I went to four different schools, and each move took another little piece from my heart. But, finally in the second semester of 9th grade, we moved to Charlotte and stayed there through my high school years. I settled down a little bit, and enjoyed the feeling of being a part of the "connection", but truth is...deep down, I alway kept one little piece of me right by the door... ...just in case.

I'm beginning to understand that this trip has brought me back in touch with my gypsy side, and, much to my surprise, I'm pretty sure I've made peace with her. There's the part of me (and it's the larger part of me) who loves that I've been here for almost 20 years...a lifetime record for living in one place. I love that I, with a whole lot of help, achieved a 36 year dream of getting back to the beach... which started at the age of 12 when we left Miami, and finally came to fruition when I moved to Carolina Beach at age 48. I love my friends and my community... our house that we share with Sadie Mae....our whole life here. But, in the past few years, there's been a restlessness deep inside, and it was beginning to be a little troublesome because I couldn't quite figure out what it was all about.

Now, I know. The gypsy girl inside was begging to be heard and she spoke loudly enough that when my sister asked me if I wanted to go to Colorado with her to see her son, I said...hell, yeah...as long as we can go to Graceland! Which, of course, is how we came to drive cross country and satisfy both our gypsy souls. So...I go back to my desire to "be received in Graceland", and like the Paul Simon song says "For reasons I cannot explain, there's some part of me wants to see Graceland." Well, now I can explain it to myself and anyone else who might be interested. It's all about connecting with your whole being. And, me and my gypsy are finally reconnected in a most wonderfully healthy way.

So, I can finish unpacking and know that even though I'm settling back into my routine at home, I'm not putting my gypsy soul in storage...she's going to remain right here with me and remind me when it's time to allow her spirit to take the lead. She helps me break free from the fearful, worrisome Lynn. By the way, I call my gypsy soul, Maggie. (another story here : )

But...no matter what... we both know where home is. And...with all my heart I can say...there's no place like home...there's no place like home...there's no place like home.

Home

Yesterday my horoscope advised: today isn't a good day for clear thinking or important decisions.

I had to laugh. The idea of of doing either had not crossed my mind since I got home Sunday afternoon. The idea of doing anything beyond sleeping and hanging out with my hubby and doggie was inconceivable. I was bone tired... physically, mentally and emotionally. Of course I expected to be a little weary, but this knock-ya-down and throw-ya-around exhaustion is much more intense than I anticipated. Then...I do have to keep in mind the reality of my age...not exactly a young chick anymore.

"Soon it will all seem like a dream", my son told me this morning, and the reality of that has created a teeny spark somewhere within because I want to write down as many thoughts as possible so it will remain a beautiful memory and not just a fuzzy dreamlike experience. Actually, that pretty much describes my life...a fuzzy, dream-like experience. More on that later...now, back to our trip while I still remember it.

One thing I need to do is go back and clear up is a comment I made about AFZ. I may have given the idea that Donna and I were singled out when we were stopped by the BP (Border Patrol) and that was not the case, at all. Everyone was being stopped and some pulled for for further questioning. Most of the folks who were detained were obviously not your light haired, blue eyed kind of folk. Many of them were families traveling and appeared to be taking a typical vacation. You know, with suitcases, tents, and bikes on top of the car. But, guess it was the bikes or something, right? You never know about those American Flyers, do you? We had chairs on top of our car and the inside so overstuffed it looked like we were moving, but that didn't seem to pose any concern at all. Couldn't have been the light skin and blue eyes, right? So...just wanted to make it clear... everyone was stopped, but only folks with brown skin were pulled over to the side.

I already ranted about the political signs, so I won't stir that bad energy up again. But, shortly after we left AFZ we read an article about the decrease in their tourism this summer, and it just seemed totally understandable to me. I don't understand the mentality of a state that allows these types of signs on interstate highways. It's a slap in the face for tourists who have differing political views and a double slap to the people of AFZ who think differently but still pay state taxes. OK...no more talk about this state. I promise. Well, except for this...Dave has a great bumper sticker on his truck..."Karma...it's everywhere you're going to be". Well, guess it can also be said...it's everywhere you're not going to be, right? Looks like lots of touristy folks aren't going to be in AFZ.

Almost finished unpacking. Travel tips: Don't over pack. You really don't need 6 different journals because, chances are, you won't use any of them. Also, try not to pack too many books...why would you think you'll read three or four times more books on a trip than you do at home? You won't! You probably won't read any of them because you'll go into a thrift shop and find a book that you've been wanting to read and it's only 35 cents. That's the book you're gonna read because nothing draws your attention like a super real deal. Blouses and shirts...don't go overboard...keep in mind these wonderful inventions called washers and dryers. They're everywhere! Do take into consideration: weather variances. It wouldn't hurt to being a jacket and a couple things you can layer. Of course, if you hit cold weather and didn't come prepared, that's a perfect excuse for even more thrift shopping. And, when you find an Eileen Fisher medium weight vest for $5...you don't even think twice. : )

I have so much more to tell, but will save it for next time. To all of you who are following my blog....I thank you from the very bottom of my heart. Most of you know I've always wanted to write and through this blog, I'm trying out my wings. If you have suggestions or critiques, please do share...my ego is not allowed on this spiritual venture, so you don't have to worry about that.

We're in Lebanon, TN and this is our last night in a motel. It seems impossible that our journey has almost come to an end. Tomorrow we will arrive in Asheville and then I'll be heading back home on Sunday. It will be good to have a day to just settle a little, unload Donna's car and transfer all my stuff to my car and get a little break from the road.

Originally, we planned to end the trip in Nashville and have one more honky-tonk night on Music Row. At the time, it seemed the most appropriate ending, but that was before Memphis and Graceland.

If anyone tells you to not to go to Memphis because it's too dangerous, thank them for the info and go ahead and make your reservations. Sure, there are areas you might want to avoid like in any other city, but Memphis has a soulful energy that you really don't want to miss. We stayed in the downtown area and felt perfectly safe to walk down to Beale Street and hang out..and walk back. Now, I would warn you that on Wednesday nights from April through September, the Bikers take over the main strip on Beale. It's very noisy and some of them were a bit on the rough side, at least to my way of thinking, but except for that little annoyance, it was a great opportunity to listen to some good ol' blues and foot-stomping honky-tonk. And absolutely fascinating for people-watching!

Somehow I had forgotten that the Peabody Hotel was in Memphis and was so delighted to see it and actually, go in and talk to the consigliere about the ducks. They were already tucked in for the night, but if one wants to see them, just be there at 11am and 5pm to watch them cross the street to the lake. Had timing allowed, I would have been right there at 11 to take photos of the little duckies. I used to love reading that story and am so happy to learn the Peabody has continued the tradition. The hotel is beautiful, very elegant and of course, totally out of our budget limits, but just knowing the ducks are still there was good enough for me.

Graceland!!! How can I possibly convey the thrill of bouncing into Graceland??? Have you ever anticipated something for so long that once it actually happens, it's almost a de ju vu experience? That's how I felt about Graceland. With that sense of familiarity, I knew that no matter what happened, I would not be disappointed because there were no outlandish expectations and I was entering this experience with my total heart and soul...the brain was not invited. Have you ever noticed how it's usually the brain that really fucks things up? Well, that's exactly why I left it in the car along with the luggage, water bottles and tourist brochures.

Graceland, to me, is really not so much about Elvis and his music..it's more about that he bought the house because he promised his mom he would buy her a "mansion" someday. The home is all about love and giving. And, as much as I love Paul Simon's "Graceland'... for me, it's not about losing love....it's about the pilgrims and families who come to Graceland to be "received".

My idea of being received in Graceland is like transcending into a higher state of grace...it validates who I am and why we're all who we are.... and ultimately... we really are all One. We're all bound for Graceland in one way or another. Donna put it so well..."if someone asks if we're saved, we can say...no, but we're received. That pretty much sums it up.

I have learned so much on this journey and it will take some time to process it all. For now, I can tell you that my heart is full of gratitude for this opportunity, and I do feel some subtle changes in me that will, hopefully, help me on my quest to become the best I can be and all that I am supposed to be.

As we roll into NC tomorrow, it will be so good to be back in our home state and even closer to my home at the beach with the love of my life and my sweet Sadie Mae dog.

But, first...Asheville and the Friday night drum circle.

Santa Fe

Santa Fe is my new spiritual resting place. The energy I hoped to find in Sedona apparently left there some time ago. It's been replaced by quacks who sell everything from t-shirts to enlightenment. The only thing I enjoyed was the place we stayed...Star Motel...funky, sweet and inexpensive. Donna and I were so excited about getting there, but once we walked around and got the feel of the place, it was like a kick in the gut. We drove around town to a few of the special places looking for spiritual energy, but there was none to be found. The Cathedral Rock was pretty, but didn't compare with the serene beauty of The Arches. We looked for a vortex which we were told was the strongest in the area, but when we asked the park ranger if it was near by, she said, "so they say" and pointed to the path we should take to look for it. We asked several folks along the way and no one knew anything about it. Finally, one lady told us she thought it was a little further down the path, but to watch out because she had just seen a rattle snake there. Well, trust me, if I have to encounter a rattle snake to find spiritual enlightenment, I'm just going to have to pass on that particular opportunity.

Now, get this....as we were leaving town (at a snail's pace because of traffic) there was a cowboy gunfight show going on right in the middle of town. The cowboys were shouting at each other and then they started shooting at each other. Literally, we left Sedona with the sounds of gunshot. WTF???

To be totally fair to Sedona, we did visit the beautiful chapel which is built into red rock and it is truly an incredibly holy place. We went in and just sat for a while and soaked in all the peace and beauty. It's located a short distance from town and the views of the red rocks were spectacular.

In talking with a couple folks about our Sedona experience, we were told that, essentially, the energy has moved from Sedona because of the over-commercialization. I perfectly agree and it saddens me to, once again, see the soulless raping of our Mother Earth. Even the holy church grounds have been compromised by a hugely ostentatious house right across the street. I thought it was a hotel, but it's a single family residence. You have to wonder what kind of an ego a person must have to think it's ok to build his mansion in a place that is so obstructive and shows such disdain for everyone else. Personally, I would hate to have their karma.

Traveling out of Sedona towards the Grand Canyon, we went down a narrow, winding mountain road that had no rails on the side...aarrgg! We stopped at a little rest place and met some folks who told us how horribly crowded and hot it was at the Canyons. That did it for me. I was sick of winding mountain roads, and really was going to the Grand Canyon because everyone told me I needed to see it and I figured it was my duty as an American citizen or something along that line. Donna had already seen it and we made an instant decision to get the hell out of AFZ and head to New Mexico. My heart felt ever so much lighter after that decision.

So, we got on I-40 and made a beeline to a cute little town called Gallup, New Mexico. We went to the town square to watch the weekly performance of Native Americans...this week was the Zuni women dancers and they were great. Danced with bowls on their heads! There, in this quiet little town, listening to these beautiful women, I found the spiritual connection I was looking for...these were my people. I just love that feeling of being in a place and knowing that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. We stayed at the Comfort Inn, very nice, clean and inexpensive, and right next to the Olympic Restaurant which had great food and cheap, good wine. Hallelujah!

Beautiful drive into Santa Fe this morning...some rain which produced the most beautiful cloud show I've seen in a long time. As soon as we hit Santa Fe, we fell in love. The people..the energy...the beauty...the cool weather..the air...the spirit. I'm thinking they knew what they were talking about when the named this state the Land of Enchantment. I am truly enchanted.

Looking forward to tomorrow and all the special places we'll discover right here in glorious Santa Fe.

Hard to believe we've reached the return segment of our journey, but, here we are in Sedona and eastward bound. It is so very good to be heading home. As much as I have loved almost every single piece of our trip, and as excited as I was as we headed westward, I find myself feeling the same sense of excitement and anticipation of the journey home.

Sitting here in a quiet little motel in Sedona and loving it's delightful quaintness. I love finding these off-the-wall little places that have their very own personality and surprising quirks you never find in the corporately appointed hotels. We may miss out on the Continental breakfasts, but they're pretty boring anyway.

Last night we were in San Diego with dear, dear friends, Allie and Jim and oh, what a magical time we had with them. They offered their home, their time and their whole hearts to us throughout our 2 day visit. Allie is my soul sister and I so needed to be with her and spend time and share hugs and tears and love...so much love. It was wonderful to see how very well she is doing in her new surroundings. Most definitely, Allie is growing her wings. It's a joy to behold. Jim looks 10 years younger that he did when he left Wilmington a month ago. Just shows what happiness can do for ya! I've decided to adopt Jim as my new soul brother. Haven't really asked him about that, but I really don't think he'll mind. Back home, I'll miss them with all my heart, but just knowing how happy they are and what a beautiful life they are experiencing, all will be well with my soul. I think the older I get, the more important it is to know that all the people I love and cherish are safe, happy and well within their souls.

My heart is so full of love, peace, and gratitude for the beautiful experiences of the past few weeks and it seems impossible to even begin to find the words to express the impressions which lay just beneath the surface of my being. I think, in time, the words will flow, but for now, I am content to be in Sedona, in a sweet little motel, with my little sister bustling about like a busy bee. I think I'll settle down and hopefully sleep and dream of all the magical energy of Sedona just waiting for us in the morning.

And, of course..we're one day closer to Graceland.

Saturday :

So...here I sit with an ice cold Smirnoff Ice...listening to the Rolling Stones...exchanging wise-ass barbs with my 8 year old grandson as he builds yet another majestic tower with his legos. My son is preparing dinner...sister on her computer... pre- teenage granddaughter holed up in her room doing god-knows-what on her i-phone, and I'm thinking...life is good and I'm just so grateful to be alive, healthy and relatively sane.

We went to Universal Studio today to visit the set Amanda (my daughter-in-law) is working on and even at my advanced age, I was downright thrilled to see cowboys and horses on the western set. It all looked so real, I expected to see Miss Kitty and Matt Dillon come walking out of the saloon. This is a commercial and it just amazes me how much work goes behind these 30 second slots. Almost makes me feel guilty about using that period of time to grab a cookie or go pee.

Our short time in San Luis Obispo was a little disappointing in that when Dave and I drove past it a few years ago coming down the PCH, it seemed like a wonderful little town and I developed a fantasy about moving there. I, actually, went online and looked at a cute little house(1.2 mil.). that was for sale...it was within walking distance to the farmer's market. : ) My plan was to check it out on this trip...just for the heck of it. Well, after spending a little time in the town, I realized it wasn't quite what I expected. And that was totally fine..this gypsy gal has found her home. I think I'm becoming more like Dorothy...realizing where home really is and that there's no place like it. Of course, being a cancer crab, there will alway be a little part of me that needs to keep on moving in one direction or another. But, that really doesn't have much to do with home, does it?

Flash forward to Sunday morning! Oh, the time is is going way too quickly. I am soaking in all the love and hugs I possibly can.

Last night, after everyone one else had gone to bed, D.R., Donna and I sat out on the deck and while he played guitar, we sang a few Beatle's songs, and Kristofferson's "'Bobby McGee", but most awesome .... we sang "Hallelujah"...twice...and I remain so blown away by the words of that song. For some time I've wanted to get into a deep discussion about the lyrics and finally last night we did just that. Now I think I get it and perfectly understand why it took Leonard Cohen five years to write it. Itv was such a wonderfully special night..one that will always hang out in my heart and be there just when I need it the most.

Some years back, my granddaughter, Keely, was so excited about starting kindergarten, which she called "big girl's school". I called her the evening of her first day to ask how everything had gone. A very sad little voice responded..."it was ok...but, Grandma...I'm still 'wittle' (aka little)." I thought it was so cute that she believed she would come home a big girl after her first day of "big girl" school.

Today, I fully get her disappointment. After a day on the Pacific Coast Highway, I still feel very "wittle." My big plans to drive so my sister could really enjoy the view came to naught. I did ok with certain parts of the drive from San Fran to Monterey, but, for the most part, that was pretty flat land and when we hit the few places that were more mountainous, I didn't do so well. Actually, I was pretty crappy.. essentially a wuss. I was driving so slow the bicyclers were passing us. Pretty pathetic, right?

Needless to say, we both knew I'd never be able to drive us from Monterey to San Luis Obispo. So, Donna, God love her, took the wheel and managed to get us here without driving off a cliff and despite my occasional panic outbursts. As in...watch the #$*)^#@ road!....put both hands on the %$@#*! steering wheel!....WTF are you doing???.....and then when she was heading to a major curve over a really high cliff and was actually looking over her shoulder behind her...I didn't even have a voice to speak ...all I could was snap my fingers and point to the road. Understandably, she didn't appreciate me snapping at her and had a few choice words to share with her big sister.

Well, I didn't pass my fear-of-heights test and even though, in a way, I feel just like Keely felt when she was still little after her first day of big girl school, I do have one advantage...age. I'm saying to me..it's ok to be afraid...I faced the fear and even though the fear won...hey, WTF! I'm still me and there are plenty of things I'm not afraid of ....like dolphins... and one of them broke my toes for crying out loud. It was a beautiful drive and I'm so glad we did it so Donna could (halfway) enjoy it, but I'm never going to do it again. Once with my Dave and again with my sister..that's all I need in this lifetime. Besides, the other route goes through wine country and I'm totally cool with that.

So, we're all safe and sound in our Ramada Inn room in San Luis Obispo and ready to hit the bed for a good sleep before tomorrow. We'll get back on the PCH down to Santa Barbara, but it's pretty flat and maybe I can even manage to drive this section...if Donna will let me and, after today, I wouldn't blame her if she didn't. She is the best sister in the world...and get this..she can even parallel park. Shazam!!!

Oh...very soon I have to tell you about our many trips to the Goodwill stores..and other thrift shops. Oh baby, did we ever get some deals!!! : )

A little quiet time here in San Francisco...a great opportunity for a bit of reflection. We've been on the road for two weeks now and looking back, it seems incredible that we have done so much in such a short time.

We bought little "spirit" rocks in Colorado and I keep thinking about all the reasons we picked our particular one. Donna's is "Believe" and mine is "Courage". I think the main reason I chose courage was because I can be such a wuss about so many things and I knew I'd need a little extra something to get past the most worrisome issues...like heights and crawly critters...my sister's driving and just simply making such a leap outside my comfort zone. I think I needed to find the courage to believe we could make driving across America actually happen.

Well, two weeks on the road and I'm beginning to believe we're gonna make it just fine. I had my moment of total panic in Moab when we drove to Dead Horse Point to watch the sunset. We drove into to the park and didn't see a single car for at least 25 miles. Now, as most of you know, I like having people close by...at least close enough to feel some sense of assurance should an unexpected critter happen by. There was nothing but wide, open spaces and lots of red rock. I would have enjoyed the beauty of it all had a few cars been around, but the absolute fear of desolation was pretty hard to get beyond. Then, we began climbing the canyons and that put me into an even deeper fear because I wasn't expecting it...somehow we both thought we'd be on the lower road the whole time and just enjoy looking up at the beautiful colors of the canyons. (Silly us!) Finally, as we neared the top, I looked at the side of the road and there was nothing... but sky...and a very, very deep nothingness. It was all I could do to keep from screaming like a banchee, but I didn't. I waited until we got to the top and saw several cars with real people...then I just put my head in my hands and sobbed and sobbed. Poor Donna... all I could do was nod my head when she asked if I was OK and shake it when she asked if I wanted to go back down. Hell no, I didn't want to go back down! I wanted to stay with the people.

It all turned out well...we took lots of photos and hung out with the peeps, and came down with them. One car in front of us and one behind us...being in the middle made me feel very safe. : ) I said to Donna...I love being in the middle...she responded...I knew you would. Ah, sisters!

The next day we went to The Arches National Park and I climbed up part of the canyon to take photos of the Delicate Arch, walked on the edge of the Fiery Furnace and didn't even blink when we came down the scary part of the road.

So! I do believe I found my courage, but...and there's always that "but" with me...there were a few turns on the road through the Sierra Navada's that gave me pause and when we venture down the PCH, no doubt there will be brief (hopefully) moments when I just need to take deep breaths and hold on tightly to my courage. I can do that! Right?

Here we are at this comfy little inn in the Pacific Heights area of San Francisco. It's a wonderful place in a great location...we feel very safe here. If you're coming to San Francisco, check out the Pacific Heights Inn....decent prices...free parking...you will not be disappointed. We have a kitchen and we're cooking pasta and veggies tonight. In the mornings we toast the delicious sourdough bread and add a little local honey....perfecto!

I'm figuring out why I needed this trip. The obvious is that it's been a dream for most of my life. It's not at all about escape or getting away from my life in CB. I love my life there...I love my husband with every fiber of my being and my dog, Sadie. I love my friends and my work with Gregory and Roland Grise and my Grandmothers For Peace and my book group...and dear God, I do absolutely love the ocean and just being able to breathe the air. But...being a navy brat, I think I'm responding to the gypsy part of me. Growing up, I never lived in a place more that 3 years, and although a part of me longed for a permanent place, another part became a bit of a gypsy..always moving around...always searching. I realize this is not a search for me...me is with my Dave and Sadie...this is simply exploring the country and learning a little more about courage...and believing.

Here I sit in Moab, Utah...yet another place I never thought I 'd be. And, once again, I find myself searching for the words to describe the utter beauty of this land. To be honest, I didn't know much about Moab prior to this journey, and too be even more honest, I thought it, being a desert town, would be totally flat with lots of sand..or just plain dirt. The desert I envisioned was something more Saharaish. Well, you can imagine how surprised I was to discover that: a) there is no sand and b) we're surrounded by mountains, mesas, and red rock. And..it's a funky little town to boot! Ya just nevah know, right?

My sister and I have been on the road for a week now. We celebrated our first week yesterday evening at a little pub in Glendale Springs Colorado right across from the old train station which sits on the banks of the Colorado River. We toasted ourselves with a glass of wine for me and a Margarita for Donna. It's hard to believe a whole week has gone by. We actually hit the 2,000 mile mark today. Amazing, isn't it?

So, we left Asheville last Sunday and travelled to Nashville...a short distance the first day because we wanted to make it relatively easy and thought the Nashville Honky Tonk scene would be an excellent beginning. It was and we had a grand time listening to blues, country and just plain ol' honky tonk. It was the perfect place to begin and may very well be the perfect place to end.

Our destination was Colorado Springs, CO to visit Donna's son, Ian, who is in the area working at a camp. From Nashville to Ian, we pretty much stuck to travel and rest as we meandered on I-70 through Missouri and Kansas. We enjoyed watching the changes in scenery along the way and were especially taken by the vastness of Kansas. I spent a lot of time hunting for those amber waves of grain and although the season isn't quite right for their true majesty, they were pretty impressive. Certainly made this ol' southern gal feel humbled.

Had to take a break because of computer issues, but hopefully back on track now. So...we're out of Moab...spent a night in a purple room at the Montego Bay Casino : ) and last night in Reno. This morning we hit the road for San Francisco. We're going to see the ocean today!!!

My heart is singing!!!!

What a birthday this has been! Donna, aka, Luna and I got up this morning and went down to the Farmer's Market in Woodland Park. It was not so big as Wilmington's market, but not quite so small as CB. One of the vendors was selling meats that we don't see in our markets...elk, bison, and lamb (as in Marry Had a Little Lamb). Lots and lots of great fresh veggies..we bought some corn to microwave in our room tomorrow night. Lots of food and it being my birthday, naturally, I had to have a very large chocolate chip cookie. : ) People were so friendly and when we told them about our trip, they all had suggestions on how to get where and what sights we had to see.

Next on our agenda was a ride over to this delightfully quaint little town, Manitou Springs. Such a fun and funky place this was! We parked in the most groovy hippie neighborhood and the houses were so cute and whimsical. I fell in love with this little pink house on a hill! Some of the shops were unlike anything I've seen. I bought my Dave's late anniversary present here and I'm so excited about it, I can hardly stand it. And, it being my birthday and all, I found this fabulous big ol' bag I just couldn't live without. Also, a beautiful rainbow colored peace scarf which, you all know, I most certainly needed.

This evening, we're going out for Mexican (the mild kind) and maybe a little wine. That will end a perfectly beautimous birthday for this old lady. But, you know what? I don't feel old...well, except for the fact that I can't really breathe very well in this high altitude. : ) My spirit feels young and I feel like my my tired old wings are actually rejuvenating themselves and maybe, if I really tried, I could maybe even soar for a block or two. Who knows!

Mostly, we're loving the beauty of this incredibly beautiful land. Although, we shopped a bit today, this is not what our journey is about. Of course, we have to check out the thrift shops wherever we go...I believe that is our patriotic duty, right?

Gotta go wake my sis up and head to dinner. Adios, y'all.......

Ok...now I've actually created a blog! Yikes!!! Where did all those heady thoughts and ideas go? What happened to all the words I wanted to share?

Here's what I'm telling myself. Step One was creating the blog and eventually the words will come. It just goes back to the if-you-build-it-they-will-come theory, right? Right!

For now, I'll simply say that here I sit at a small square table in a sweet little room looking out the window at the very top of Pikes Peak. Wow oh wow oh wow...who would have ever thought I would actually be here? Although I never dreamed about Pikes Peak per se, this is part of the journey I've dreamed about for more that half my life.

At the base of the hill outside my window is a field of daisies and for those of you who know how much I love daisies, you can understand how very right this place seems to me. At any minute I fully expect to see Maria running across the top of the hills singing "The Sound of Music." I'm not even sure I'd be surprised if it would happen...I'd just think...of course Maria is here....where else would she be?

I'm thoroughly enjoying some "alone" time and the absolute quietness of my gloriously beautiful surroundings...the only sounds are my fingers tapping the keyboard and the occasional bird flying by to say hello.

How grateful I am for this trip..for this experience...and for life. And, I'm pretty dang proud that I finally found the courage to create a blog!