It is very quiet here. Bugs and wind, hawks and wind chimes, the occasional baaahhhroooooo of a hound. No street noise. No cars. No sirens. My ears are happy here.
But dad and joy are selling the house and moving into town, preparing for their future together and dad’s (third and final) retirement. I’m terribly sad to lose this house and the land, but of course I support them and their plans.
Last night it stormed something fierce, and I kind of feel like I’m getting the full show, especially if this is my last time being here. It was pretty neat, but my dad’s huge white lab, who sleeps with me while I’m here, was not enthused, poor guy. So there was a lot of extra snuggling in the wee hours.
We made dinner and hung out on the porch and drank scotch and talked til late last night. Tonight I’m doing stuff with my mom. I’ve got a different attitude now, so I think it will be fine.
It’s beautiful here in a lot of ways, and ugly in others. The casual, frequent racism is an example of the ugliness. The amazing skies are an example of the beauty. The clouds looked like they were on fire as the sun set last night. Good and bad here just like everywhere else, I suppose.