“Do the next thing”

So Anna and I were riding along home.  Not really home, but to a place that many of us call home.  Some of us agree that as we make this trip, the realities of our day to day lives fall away to make room for the memories, and the potential, or almost certainty, of making new ones.  Certainty?  Well, maybe not.  Hope? Yeah, that’s it.  I drive on with a foot pressing harder the pedal that barrels our vehicle along, as if doing so will get us there faster.  Yet, faster won’t work, because our thought need time to change.  Time to transition into the slower pace of the land of our past.  For those we visit, it is their home, their current life, their day to day place.  For us, it is a page out of a history book and we are adding footnotes by our arriving, staying a bit, then leaving.

In our ears as we traveled, spoke the words of a book.  The miracle of technology connecting the words of a book through the speakers.  Christy.  Catherine Marshall.  Cutter Gap.  As we meneuvered the last leg of the trip between Kingfield and Stratton, the reader’s words narrated as if she were with us, telling us the story that was flying around in my mind.  As she spoke of the mountains I saw our mountains.  I was lost in the sight of the birches against the deep green of the evergreen, and the muted salmon color of the remaining low growing foliage.  A recent snow smoothed things over giving the final touches to that landscape painting that was to our right and to our left.  It was familiar.  It was mine.

I was going home.

Another day of sorting out reality.

Is it possible to be too transparent with those around you? Sometimes I think I say too much about how I feel and regret it.  I don’t know.  Time will tell if it comes back to bite me.

Adam just got back home from another night shift at Bean’s….the classic seasonal job for Mainer’s who are in between jobs or looking for extra income.  They all get laid off in January, with rare exceptions.  Adam hopes to hear from more substantial job prospects in the days and weeks ahead.

Christmas is still coming and I don’t want it to.

I feel the weight of the country on my shoulders. How am I “celebrating” Veteran’s Day? What? Get up in the morning, clean the house, do some grocery shopping and forget about that fact that the four men in my life could get deployed at any time and there is nothing I can do about it. I can’t wait until tomorrow when the focus is off of the down and dirty reality of my life.

I want to do Christmas differently.  The thought keeps going through my mind, “There must be something more.”  That seems like a Hollywood quote.  How many movies have you seen where one character or another voiced those words?  Speaking of Hollywood, I fear I might be taken for a Scrooge or a Grinch, just by saying the words.  Yet, you must remember that they both turned into nice guys in the end.  You can also admit that you have thought the same thing a time or two, but have squashed it…like I always have.  This year, however, I want to mean it….

Some tell me it’s because our family has changed.  Some tell me it’s the economy.  Others tell me I’m just a little tired and burned out from a crazy year.  I just keep wondering if I’m too selfish to exert myself beyond me.  Whatever it is, I think it has merit.  Determining that something has value is the first step, but it seems the harder task might be sorting out how to pursue the idea.  I searched the internet for articles or bloggers who have said the same thing, and found very few.  I think it was three, but one of them was filled with vulgar language, so I didn’t even read it; I’m not angry about the dilemma, just thoughtful about it!

Have you figured out how to do Christmas differently?