Friday, March 2, 2007
Toto I think we are back in Kansas
I have itchy feet. I've also been fickled but that's a whole 'nother story. My Grandpa had it and it seems to skip a generation as both my parents were dug in solid. I can't seem to sit still despite an aching feeling of loss each time I "move on". I love my family very much. I love being home where everything is familiar. As I age, and my brain decays I find familiarity comforting. I walk through my Mothers home I touch everything as I go by. My fingers have brushed that same thing a thousand times over the years and it is known to me. Since my itchy feet demand I am constantly being confronted with new places and new stuff it's nice to feel at peace with these things.
It finally warmed up some recently. The whole day was so nice we drove with the window's down in the car. But then came the night and it rained "buckets" it rained "cats and dogs" it rained enough that creeks rose up and turned streets into lakes. Flash flooding filled with the incredible sight of lightening. Our front yard was covered with pea sized hail. I always liked that comparison. Pea sized hail. Sounds like a benediction. Just an hours drive south of us they had a tornado that was on the ground for most of 3 hours. Bopping up and down in the clouds in a nightmarish game of hop-scotch where the winner gets to keep his house. We just had high winds that blew trash cans down the street and into the neighbors garden. By morning, we had snow. Yep, I'm home. Kansas has once again reminded me of it's spectacular beauty; it's dramatic displays of climate. That sounds like a quote from Robert Heinlein. Climate is what you expect, weather is what you get.
Davina had to let her horse Clyde go recently. It was a horribly tough decision and hurt her terribly. Clyde was an old fellow that she loved dearly. He loved her too despite his mule-ish wasy. Is that a word? mulish? I don't know. Some of my favorite memories of her and Clyde are in the winter. He was a big bay gelding. Fancy way of saying he was brown and had been "fixed". The snow always seemed to compliment his coloring and make him look sort of warm and fuzzy. I thought about that as she led him down towards the woods to his final resting place. Clyde in the snow. The woods and the woods in the snow. It was just so darned appropriate since her fave poem is by Robert Frost, it's called
"In the Clearing".
I memorized it for her and would often quote it to her as a gift. She would lean her head forward and I would whisper the words into her ear while her hair would tickle my lips. In hindsight, it should be a requirement that you whisper this poem to someone. It's not written for a normal tone of voice. I would do this usually while we were outside someplace looking at woods and freezing. But it never failed to give her happy goose bumps so I was happy to be able to do it. The best kind of gifts cost nothing and make the giver as happy as the receiver. Now whenever I look at those woods in the winter I'll think of that horse and the last time I rode him. I should say the last time he threw me as he was getting good at it. Without further ado here's the poem as I recall it.
Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though
He will not mind me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The coldest night of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sounds the sweep
Of frozen wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
yes miles to go before I sleep.
The last three lines have been a catch phrase for me most of my life. I say it often, I think it more often. I have promises to keep. Hmmm... not one of my strong points. Although I used to be a lot better at it before my memory went south for the winter.
My John says I write with a Joycean flair. Sort of a stream of consciousness thing. This post is certainly indicative of that. I rambled with what ever came to mind. I think it comes from being a fast typist. The thoughts run through my head and fly out my fingers.
I learned today I have a fan base. It's now grown to 3 people. This is very exciting. I might get motivated to write more often.