My road trip was nice. I had a coma inducing feast at Jakes, a nap with the small chihuahuas and I picked up three nice snakes. On the way home I stopped at Ballards on highway 19/I 35 in Pauls Valley-they've been here since 1951. I wanted fried pickles, but they weren't on the menu, so I got some fabulous chicken livers. Usually I limit my Okie food to one big feed (Jakes) but I haven't been home since last July-I am beginning to understand why I'm so tired all the time.
I also had this thought-not terribly original-that our generation values excess the way my parent's values thrift. Not a terribly flattering thought.
The snakes were about 3 blocks from a couple of houses were I used to live with the child molesting, mentally abusing lawyer ex husband of mine. I think he deserves precise adjectives rather than generic cussing. So I drove by-one house was easy to spot, but for the life of me I couldn't pick out the other one. And then I thought-who cares? In fact, I thought the neighborhood looked pretty good and I was glad that the downhill slide seems to have reversed. People live their live there unaware of what horrors took place and truly, that is as it should be.
There are some things that deserve monuments-the Holocaust Museum comes to mind. But I wouldn't want a house of relics of the bad times in my personal life. And I think a lot of us hang on to "stuff" for just that reason, holding on to memories good and bad as if there will never be another moment of life to spend. And what is one peronal tragedy in the face of so much else that is going on in the world? Sometimes we need to be reminded to let our own stuff go and look around and try to make our home, this earth, a better place.
I also had another thought that wasn't terribly flattering-I wonder if God didn't make me fat to keep me humble. Cause so many of my dreams (books, book tours, business success) are centered around things that would make people notice me. Could it be the I, MOI, have an ego I was unaware of?
I had an adventure too. Steve Gooch, the person I bought the snakes from, keeps his kiddos upstairs-and with the help of Steve and his wife-I climbed the stairs and made it back down. Steve is photojournalist for the Daily Oklahoman, and I was in complete awe of anyone who can make living doing that, and I told him so. More than the snakes, which were fabulous, it was like meeting a hero.
I stopped and looked for curtain fabric for the Scotty on the way home, but couldn't find anything that really struck my fancy. I'm not sure want I want, but I will know it when I see it.