Lots of little things today. Dots at the ends of sentences – the sentences left, the ones I think of. The last hours.
Thursday, the first of July, covid apparently wanes, my marriage is over. I went out into Kate’s back yard, under a spreading apple tree, and trimmed my beard and hair with the electric I’d bought and shared the cost of with Spenser back when the salon we went to off Powell in Portland closed with just about everything else. We used it a lot, and as his legally designated finance guy I bought him a brand new one to bring along to Aaron and Kalae’s and I kept this one, and also I’ve carried the very early tomorrow-morning boxes of my most important things out to the car in dress rehearsal of the best possible packing and I’ll bring them back in soon and put them here on the patio for easy grabbing. I’ve microwaved what could be my last cup of Oregon coffee, cooling as I type, no coffee in the morning, the bathroom calls more often in these eighth decade days and I’d like to get a couple hundred miles down the road before any stops. Ibuprofen will be handy for a likely looming headache.
I gassed the car after the early Encinitas zoom, and as it’s not about me I said nothing about the next time I zoom them I’ll be in their own backyard. Let’s see how it goes. This pretty much presumes the creek don’t rise and there ain’t no meltdown and I make it safe down the 5 and 505 and 80 and 580 and the side streets of Oakland CA for a wicked fabulous reunion with Gavin, him who’s held me up the most for 79 days, and his trusty sidekick Jen (quite affectionately called the Princess of Darkness, which will be a tale another day, from a more SoCal slant). And then on safely to just north of San Diego.
Since I do have a plan to come back to Portland in September and hang with Spenser a couple of days and have a U-Haul truck rented and waiting and strong young people to help me load my meager but sentimental collection of stuff out of Joyce’s garage – no details presently reality-based – I won’t say this is my last Blog post from Oregon or the last cup of coffee in Oregon or walking in circles and thinking about stuff in Oregon. But as an Oregon resident, which I’ve been the last 12 point something years, yes. I’m done.
Thanks for hanging in. I’m thinking no post tomorrow, the first Monday through a Friday I will have missed since I announced this plan back the third week in January. Some 700 miles between me and Gavin and the Princess and LaLa the pup will see to that. Who knows, I get the hang of Encinintas internet waves, maybe I’ll sneak in a post over the weekend. Safe arrival thing. Crawling through a brand new window once upon a time tale. Wide awake alert for the magic and wonder, and with possibly an owl flying along south with me, just off the freeway – spirit creature, friend of mine.
The morning program is get up with the crazy early alarm, pray on knees, meditate, and write my Morning Pages. Then boogie. The fact that there is an all-encompassing plan for me – a caring plan – and the Universe keeps smiling on me, these things are so clear now. Shiny edges to sad days, I’m hoping to rest in that wonder and joy, keep my eyes on the prize, mostly drive defensively, and rejoice getting to hang out in Oakland, and a day later, sit over the Pacific and says “Thanks.”