Life in the Boonies.

Ok, I am not literally in the Boonies. There is a town with that name, just off I-35, here in my home state. I am actually farther off the main road than even the Boonies. Still, I would not change that. Sometimes I do not like anyone here, sometimes I like them all, and sometimes it is a piecemeal situation. It is tribal here. Who you know means something, what you can do means something, and having everything about you known means something. It all goes into the social 'pot' and then tickets are drawn accordingly. I know them all, in some capacity or another. They are mine, and I am theirs, like it or not. If I should ever fall, get my wings clipped, decide to rest, or otherwise need a place to roost, I have it.

My visit has been good. Off and on, up and down, but rather smooth and mild this time. This is becoming the normal rather than the exception. My mum is aging. She is dear to many and the scourge of few. It is good to be in her company, in her world. Even in her slowing, she does what she can for those around her. Liking all is a fruitless endeavor, taking care of those in need is what her world is about. Fighting them on this or that issue, and sometimes the hard feelings that go with it, is just part of that world view. Not a bad one if you ask me. And, as I age too, I see more that what she presents is not so off from my notions, though I only see where she acts. So, I learn. Woman, just because they are wrong does not mean that they are... well... wrong... Just... just trust me.

We have had a great Christmas here. Of course there has been pleasant familial and friendly visits. There has been food, travel, some beer, banter, and some real talk. New people have been met, old associations rekindled, and even a fresh kiss and a little grab ass or two to spark even this grumpy old man's world. And you know, I do not think Christ would bemoan any of it. In a song by Leonard Cohen, he speaks of there being a broken and a holy allelujha... Both are glorious, and spoken or sung right as we can, I suspect as he seems to suggest, both will please the Lord. In that song he suggests that through even his wrong, he will stand before the Lord with nothing on his tongue but Allelujha. Not a bad plan, at least to this lost child.

Getting online and staying online has been tricky. I think my Mum's ISP is odd. It sends and receives in very large packets, I believe. Probably too large for even a new machine to parse smoothly (right terms? if not, just use common sense). I cannot tell if it is their settings or their technology, I have not checked into it. But my Mum's machine is ancient in the world of technology, as well. So much to do, so little money. This little machine has replaced here television, for the most part, so I know I have to be thinking on this.
Oh, pardon the mispellings. I do not have a dictionary handy, I have not been writing or reading nearly to my normal level, and the machine does not offer any (if often wrong or poor) assistance.

I have done little I had planned, and enjoyed it. I have not taken care of some business I had on the list, I have not studied expect to figure out some of the questions I wish to ask my professor, and I have not been out too much, solo. We have been here and there, done this and that on my Mother's lists, and we or just kept busy enough not to have the stars aligned for my intentions. I have heard from the lovely young lady, the one with which I have some interest. It seems she has a beaux. That is not a problem, on several levels, perhaps more than one might think. I still intend to meet her for coffee and see some of her work. She has passed some useful information on, and I will be putting it to use.

Today I will be helping clean the place. My Mom does a good job, but in the time before her surgery, having a workhorse around is not a bad thing. She wants the house exceptionally clean for a number of reasons right now, and she is short, with a bum knee. I think she was a little surprised I started pushing for this. But with celebrations, travel, and her regular schedule, we just have not had the free time to dig in. I have been able to chip the ice off, keep her paths clean, and do some things for her, just not the major stuff I have planned yet. I am hoping to find a service or friends who will keep the ice off for her when I go.

She thinks I am doing better. Better than in years, perhaps decades. She also does not think I will ever make it to a fast graduation, perhaps even a career. She believes I am limited, in spite of intelligence. She was a little (very) nervous about telling me, wondering if it would not set me off to ponder in my lost world and away again. I assured her that truth will do no such thing. I also tried to help her see that keeping those secrets just out of reach would do so much more. I am not stupid, I see the shields behind which the unknown is hidden. I can almost touch souls. And when a belief or truth is not spoken, I wonder... think... doubt... search... hide... figure... No, she has done the right thing. I wish others would, and then help set me on a better path. Or at least offer their full right advice and guidance and allow me a wiser choice in my courses of action.

The Xterra has been fantastic. The hills, snow, ice, and slush have been no problem. The hind end does not slip like a truck. The warmth and comfort have been superior. My wool and silk longs have been a proved out, and impressively. The snow, clouds, and fog have been perpetual beautiful and calming. The night and what some folk think of as foul weather have always been my ladies. Their cloaking carresses, their loving promises, and the luck they have offered are all this blind man has needed to do what has been his lot to do. Someday, perhaps, they will fold me in their charms and deliver me to their darkest coldest sister, the one I know best. I hope it will be this way, in the company of the only loves who have remained true.

This is getting a bit long, but several failed attempts have left me tugging at the chain with much to write. Frustration, as other things, are lived, passed, and refound, perhaps in time even loved. But today, I will set it aside for the moment. I write!