After I picked up a frightening rental car (I just replaced the tires on the Prius after Ken the mechanic berated me mercilessly for going way beyond their limits so I am a bit sensitive to bald tires and tags on the windshield that say this car should have been serviced 4000 miles ago), I drove into Weaverville. I wondered what the heck I was doing here. After picking up provisions, I knew. EVERYTHING in the bleeping county is blooming—and as one who has missed seven or eight years of spring, seeing that green and the remarkable flowers is worth the time money and effort. I can deal with the emotional upheaval later—or after dark.
I had no idea the two smaller trees in the front yard are actually gigantic dogwoods. The short leafless shrubs are now vivid azaleas. The blank spaces along the path are –oh Chris told me what they are…little white flowering perennials? The dirt wall at the end of the driveway is sprinkled with really teeny iris and purple and pink things (if they are weeds, don’t mention it as they are lovely), and the sweetest little violets. It’s a big glorious party in the garden. Who knew?
Not all of this has been glorious. I am still dealing with the what the heck am I doing here part. Buyer’s remorse? Who knows. I love the new but hate the details—the sad, the missing, the uncertainty, the fear. I spent a couple days facing that. I think the lack of TV unmasks a lot of it. If only I could drown out my monologue with a little All My Children or Grey’s Anatomy. But when I finally wandered out into the world, it got better and I remembered that this is mostly good (except for the sad, missing part).
I believe this is gonna work. I got to have dinner with Betty and Tom who just happened to be in town. I went to a book signing with like 14 you know like 20-somethings (what generation are we on…z-gen?). I missed Hillary’s swing through Western North Carolina but she sold out which is a hopeful sign. (Which is not to say I am Hillary fan—I just like that there are people here who would show up for it). I have seen men my age without wedding bands. I went to the preview of the local open studio tour and won an hour massage at the local Zen inn. I hung out with some of my neighbors who I like more each time I see them. I met a woman who moved from California to Florida to North Carolina and wants to commiserate, wants new friends and is a Pilates instructor (all good).
I stripped the quaint wallpaper trim that has made me feel this home wasn’t mine and found environmentally correct paint I can consider for the kitchen. I have moved some glass globes around so that I can live with the yellow-gold metal fixtures until I get someone to replace them (I fear electricity). I went to a couple stops on the open studio tour and brought home a large flying ceramic pig whistle that is holding court in an otherwise bland bathroom. I walked with Jane-the-human and Sadie-the-dog on the Blue Ridge Parkway and along the Swannanoa River (near where brother David went to Outward Bound). I am a lucky girl. Life is good.
Ah, it’s time for Desperate Housewives…somewhere other than here. I will go read the recently autographed book instead. Sleep well.
PS I did not mow the lawn, but someone else is or has or...well, we shall see.
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