A Road to get lost

It is easy for the wandering soul to get caught up in the movement of the body as a remedy for stirrings of frustration and anger.  Hit the road and don’t look back on the troubles that can seemingly be left behind.  Get someplace, the body stops moving and the inherent difficulties rise again to the surface.  Must keep moving, thinks the soul, wrong kind of crowd here or I don’t like the looks of this place.  Back into the car or bus, maybe by foot or other means of locomotion the traveling soul starts to realize that no place will ever be quite right.  So–do what you can to generate a little income or better yet stick out the thumb and see what lies around the next bend in the highway.  As long as I can get away from here, as long as I can leave now then I will not have to face what is following me wherever I go.  I travel to lose myself in the hum of the tires on the road hoping that the destination will never arrive.

Prompt from Writer’s Island.

 

Big Responsibilities

A few days ago I picked up my wife from our neighbor’s house and came to the realization that this couple (both past retirement) is quite extraordinary.  Besides being one of the only households that welcomed us to the neighborhood a few years back, they have also brought into their home two of their grandchildren who they have raised since birth.  G and I do not know the story behind the parent’s disappearance though we suspect drugs or mental illness are involved since both parents are alive.  Knowing how much energy is required in raising a child I have only admiration for the love they give to their two little ones.  They have a boy four and girl three and warm smiles for strangers and neighbors alike.

G also has a co-worker who is in the process of taking in five of her brother’s children as foster children.  Again drugs and alcohol are involved, the mother is dead and the father can barely keep himself alive or out of jail.  This couple, nearing retirement, looking forward to travel, etc. will be taking into their home boys and girls ranging in age from four to twelve.  She is quitting her job to take care of them and with an overflowing heart will try to help these children find a stability and safety that has yet to exist. 

When I come into contact with individuals who have made a life decision so huge and giving I want to reach within myself and share all I can find that is good and worthy.  Eh, perhaps this post is the natural reaction to the saints that walk among us.

No more play, no more school

The dictum has finally been handed down and we have been told at work that no games can be played and no schoolwork can be done.  Which I must agree is right.  And frankly I’m relieved.  I’ve gotten caught up in playing Scrabble with friends via Facebook and commenting on discussion boards post in Blackboard.  See, when you work a public service desk at a library there is plenty of downtime.  On a slow evening you may help a handful of patrons in hours of desk-sitting.  After the side-projects are done and email is read it is just you and the internet.  What to do?

Mostly I just read.  And I used to write on this here blog until I got swept away in the game frenzy.  Fortunately the blog priviledges have not been taken away so perhaps, if I can find it in me, there will be more postings.  We shall see.

On the homefront me and the two G’s are all still adjusting to the new life.  I no longer remember the days of the uninterrupted sleep though that price is well worth the enjoyment of being a father.  I’m constantly amazed by the little being that miraculously has come to live with us!  I know about the science of birth but the utter mystery of creation leaves me dazzled.  Looking into those tiny eyes I fall into the stillness of the unknown.   And as a bonus my singing voice has returned to the delight of all:-0

Grace

Grace made her grand entrance on Saturday January 19th, weighing in at 7lbs. 10oz.

To say that life has changed would of course be an understatement. My self-identity has been morphed to include this precious baby girl and I now have a new title to add to the resume, Dad. Fortunately I have been off from work since the birth to better assimilate Grace into our family. My other G is a wonderful Mom and so patient with a little being that may cry on occasion and always wants to feed. (Which of course means diapers to be changed).

Sleep is now a resource that must be snatched whenever the opportunity presents. Amazingly though a body that has gotten 8+ hours of sleep for years can soon adjust to an intermittent 5 or 6.

My priorities are now shuffled and the first couple of attempts to focus in on schoolwork were unsuccessful. I strongly feel the pull of the tribe and want to stay with the two Gs without interruption. Do I really have to go back to work or turn in that assignment?

Throughout the birth process and the days afterward I feel such gratitude for all of the wonderful people both near and far that have helped to welcome this newest member of the family. I feel renewed.

Thank you.

Abandonment

Lest this become one of the many discarded blogs that canvas the net I guess I should write a few words here. Rather than consider all of the reasons why words have not made their way here I will pretend that I’ve fallen into a wormhole, lost my memory and now recollected that once upon a distant time I maintained a weblog and intermittently corresponded with fellow web travelers.

The time keeps running from me…

To the few friends that may happen back by here, the babe has yet to make his or her appearance, though G is in her 39th week. We have both informally requested the child to consider this Friday evening as a possible arrival time so that we may save a day of vacation during the three day weekend. We have received no reply to date.

Expectant parents will make even the grumpy smile and we have certainly done our share to spread the excitement and cheer. So much possibility lies within that belly that it is hard not to imagine futures aplenty. The grace we have received from friends, family and co-workers has overwhelmed and reassured us that we are lucky indeed.

School continues and though leaky faucets still drip I’ve instituted a white board and pocket notebook to try and keep up with it all. I’m keenly interested to see about the amount of home repair tackled with the babe in arms.

Must run to a class meeting–hope all is well.

Italy updated

This is an approximation of the email I sent to Florence today. A follow-up to this earlier post.

Dear Ms. ____,

I did not want to have to write this letter to you. When I told you two weeks ago that I was still interested in the position I had the sense that any obstacles that came up could be overcome through either will or grace. Today I have given up my quest and must withdraw my acceptance of the internship.

When I applied for this post back in August I had no idea the difficulty in securing visas for family members. I thought that Europe would be fine with wife and child and we could just go about our business for a year in Florence and then come back home. They can come with me but they cannot stay. Three months on and then three months off.

For a short time I entertained the idea of going it alone, leaving wife and child for eleven months while planning short visits home for me and to Italy for G and babe. I imagined back to a time when an opportunity like this would be cause for the dropping of all responsibilities. I thought back to more care-free days when I could be ready for this trip within days. But I have changed and so too has my life situation. I could not imagine leaving at this crucial time when the family adds a member and moments return to immediacy.

My wife, darling that she is, allowed me to mull over the possibilities and did not try to sway me into making a quick decision. She knows of my fading regret of not going abroad during my undergraduate study.

So what is left? I have these words to thank you for the consideration. I hope that you find a new candidate who can make this commitment and find a way to work it all out.

Sincerely,

Matthew

**I know its kind of a bummer but I’m so lucky to have the life I lead now. When it comes down to it there really was no chance of me going unless the whole family could take part in the experience.

Paperwork

The final weeks of the semester are wrapping up reminding me yet again why it took me so long to get back to school: paperwork. Fitting the right words onto the page, citing correctly APA or Harvard style and meeting the required amount of words are all examples of fun activities snatching away my time. I will be two-thirds of the way done after these classes which is an unbelievable blessing. I don’t know what it is like to read fiction without a twinge of guilt. Nagging my brain are doubts that everything has not been turned in on time–resulting in rechecks of assignments just to make sure all is well.

I’ve only been back in school now for sixteen months and I can barely remember times of space before the first lecture commenced. Please, tell me, what is it like on the other side. Does the grass actually have a more vibrant hue?

I know too that I am blessed to even be considering let alone pursuing a graduate degree. Having the money, time and willingness at this point in my life does not go unrecognized for its serendipitous splendor. I’m a lucky guy and recognize it even in these moments of academic despair when deadlines loom.

So back to the blank page I go, every writer’s agony and companion must be met for another slow dance.

Walking to Virginia

I’ve often referenced my time on the Appalachian Trail (AT) and the profound influence my romp in the woods has had on my life. I have not told you about many specific instances during the three months. Let me do so now.

If you are hiking north you begin the AT at the southern terminus on Springer Mountain in Georgia. After a week of walking you cross into North Carolina and soon find yourself in the Great Smoky Mountains. At times you straddle the state line with Tennessee– especially along the ridges where you can feel the land drop away on both sides of the trail. Heading further north you come upon a section of the AT fondly known by long-ditance hikers as the Tennessee Turnpike because of its easy grade and relative lack of highs and lows. Here’s where our adventure begins.

Four characters in this play:

• Zippy : Bostonian and lover of life. He carries every bit of his trash for hundreds of miles before letting it go in a ritual of removal.
• Ishmael: Grabbed his alias from the book by Daniel Quinn. Traveling the full length of the trail with his girlfriend Grinder, gnawer of teeth.
• Dharma Bum a.k.a. Bunny Luv: Recent college graduate, nibbler of tiny carrots, talker of arrogant nonsense.
• Me a.k.a. Moonlight: Orange beard grower and reluctant elder statesman of this motley collection.

The challenge: To walk 33 miles from Tennessee into Virginia just in time for breakfast at a diner in Damascus.

We depart at 4:00p.m. figuring a 2 m.p.h. speed with dinner break will deliver us to scrambled eggs heavens the next morning. We are giddy about this trip within a trip–renegades pushing the limits of our endurance just because we can. I doubt any of us would be making this trek without the fraternal support of the others. Night hikes over a great distance are best when conversation can eat away the hours and stave off the moving shadows.

We are lucky that a full moon shines down upon us and we can turn off head lamps in sections of the trail with few overhanging trees. I talk to Zippy about the fulfillment of dreams and we stop in mid-conversation as the warning snorts of frightened deer ring out from the dark underbrush. Ishamael and Bunny Luv hang back lost in their own ramblings unaware of the close-by beasts. Reaching a shelter we cook midnight meals of rice and pasta, disturbing the slumbers of other hikers sunk in their sleeping bags for the night.

Twenty-nine miles into the trip we reach the sign that lets us know we have made it to Virginia. Creatures for miles wonder at the strange hooting and hollering emanting from the delirious figures with lights on their heads. Pictures are taken, hands slapped and the celebrations begin. One drawback. We still have four more miles to hike into town and we don’t know the time.

These last miles are the toughest and understandably so. Our legs flop in front of us, shoulders sag from a weight too long carried. Our talking minimizes and headlights beam foreward looking for the last bend of the perpetual night. At last we trudge out of the woods and instead of the hero’s welcome find a deserted town sleeping peacefully. The relief we feel in encountering civilization is met with the realization that a small burg has nothing to offer the needy traveler arriving in the dead of night. It is 3:30a.m.–in our excitement we have walked too fast. We are tired and hungry. My legs are so chapped and I hobble down main street.

But we are not unprepared. We have provisions in our backpacks and once the disappointment of no breakfast sinks in we do what long distance hikers do. Find a flat spot near the river, pitch a tent and sleep the sleep of the contented.

From left to right: Ishmael, Zippy, Bunny Luv. Time: Approx. 1:30a.m.

The Interlude

I’ve been so good.  Faithfully writing words, stringing along sentences on this here weblog and then…just like that no posts for almost two weeks.  What has been keeping me away from this platform?  I cannot identify anything remarkably different from ten days ago and now.  I’m still in school and G is pregnant albeit the skin on the belly is more taut.  Holidays can certainly bring one away from the normal routine and I did travel for the Thanksgiving feast.  Hmmm…

Perhaps I just needed a break.  A respite from the digging around for words, responding to kind comments and then the reciprocal comment on another’s blog.  Not that I mind the generous conventions of the thoughtful blogger, it’s just that my interests always shift and while I may be into reading many blog posts one week, I may read none the next.  I am consistently inconsistent.  Except when I’m not.

A couple discoveries I’ve made since my last post (Forgive my use of the list format) :

• I started a Facebook account many months ago and promptly forgot about it. (I never did open up a MySpace) Recently many people I know (co-workers, friends, acquaintences) all have FB accounts and I have been sucked into the void of social networking.  I now talk to co-workers I barely know about their new tattoo or some other such tidbit that has been shared in the FB arena.  Strange intersections of friendship when the online and physical personas come crashing into one another.  The main perk I’ve found from FB is an application that allows you to play Scrabble with your friends.  Just what I needed to while away the hours.
• I can get pretty emotional when it comes to college football.  Yes, sadly its true.  When the Virginia Tech football players emerge on the field my heart jumps and this surge of pride quickens my pulse.  I cannot fathom why I identify so strongly with something that has so little to do with my day-to-day existence.  Maybe a need to merge with something bigger than me.  I could only laugh a few weeks back when VT lost in the final seconds and I could not sleep for hours.  Truly pathetic.
• Mowing the lawn is much more efficient than raking up the leaves.  Rather than spending half the day squeezing the tree debris into plastic bags, I mulch the leaves up with the mower and lessen the amount that needs to be bagged.  Time saved but I cannot listen to audiobooks as easily.  A tradeoff and the back is thankful.
• The washing machine needs to be vented.  What, you say?  When the water rushes out of the machine and through the hose there needs to be some way for air to get in and allow the torrent to effectively move.  Good old displacement at work.  Our vent is clogged.  I go onto the roof with a metal snake and use all fifteen feet to try and clear the way.  All efforts to this point have been unsuccessful.  The machine drains too quickly for the choked airflow resulting in a backwash that drenches the garage floor.  But my homeownerly knowledge has increased and I’m trying hard to convince myself that this is a good thing.  Even better would be a washing machine that fulfills its promise without my intervention.

So ends the interlude between posts.  We shall see what tomorrow brings.

Carry to the Med

A few years before my extended hike on the Appalachian Trail I happened upon a different hiking trail in southern France. Called the GR-10 (I know, romantic) this footpath stretches from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea covering the length of the Pyrenees Mountains. Leading up to my hike I had been staying with a family in a small town near Toulouse. One night I met a British gentleman who told me about his dream to hike for a week each year and eventually finish walking the GR-10. He was about halfway through. I spent the rest of the night picking his brain about the specifics of life on that trail and by the next morning had hatched a plan. I would make my way south until I found the trail, take a left and walk towards the Mediterranean. Here are some of the things I either carried or wish I had carried on this foray into the French Wilderness:

Carried

• Heavy wrinkled corduroy pants that weighed me down and kept me warm on cool fall mornings
• A belief that I had enough stamina and good luck to navigate and last until I touched my toes into blue water
• The essentials of backpack, tent and sleeping bag–my holy trinity of backwoods essentials
• A trust in the spontaneity of life that put me on the trail

Wish I had carried

• More socks for those poor toes that suffered the fire-burn of neglect
• Another disposable camera–one does not cut it when every day is glorious
• Gifts for the kind souls that forgave my butchering of the French language and helped me along my way
• Everyone I knew to share in the reality of being wide awake within a dream

More Scribblings here.