Day 138
Today we had a respite. Cool air came in – thankfully. I woke up, for the first time … in how long? … not sticky and feeling gross. For someone who, for most of my 34 years in Colorado woke up feeling neither sticky nor gross, today was a good morning. I have really missed waking up to that cool, dry Colorado air.
But, I don’t miss the dryness that would make my skin like an alligator’s or me being totally incapable of wearing my contacts because my eyeballs were as dry as the Sahara. Hmmm, maybe the humidity factor isn’t so bad?
I miss my bedroom. Actually, if I had a bedroom now maybe I wouldn’t miss it. Discount this one. No fair comparing apples to dinosaurs.
I miss the fragrance of the freshly mown park … that was always a really good thing. That freshness would waft its way up the hill in through our bedroom windows. Some of my most vivid memories are of Tim and I lying in bed smelling that fragrance early on some summer mornings.
And yes, they do mow the cemetery across the way … but it’s just not the same!
I miss the regularity of life. The ebb and flow of what was … the routine and normalcy … the constancy that comprised my days. I know that will come in time – but for now, I miss it.
Drops ins … I have a handful of friends that I would drop in on … and who would drop in on me. It was delightful … and it was often. I miss those connections … a LOT.
People have asked me if I miss my house … and oddly, not really. I think I was so ready to move on. Am I comfortable here? Does it feel like home yet? No … but, that too, will come with time. And though I don’t miss my house or my yard, I do miss my neighbors.
I miss the sky. How can someone miss the sky? Well, here there are trees and things are closed in. In Colorado the expanse is amazing. The vistas are grand. The mountains in the distance are beautiful. I miss that.
Bugs … here I am talking about bugs … again! And oddly, too, I don’t miss that CO was virtually bug-free. We had icky spiders which I detested but basically we were pretty much a bug-free zone. I don’t mind what has come my way here … so far. SO FAR is the key word. No flies. No mosquitoes. No roaches. No cicadas. I don’t think the bug invasion has happened yet. We’ll see.
Cool nights. The sun goes down in CO and if you are outside, you’d better be packing a sweater. Here, it was 88 at midnight the other night. Or so it seemed. And I don’t know if I actually miss the coolness as much as I don’t like the claminess that the humidity and heat bring.
My hairdo. I miss my hairdo. Now, after you stop laughing and continue reading (those of you who know me know I have no hairdo!) you’ll understand that I mean a fluffed hairdo. Here my hair is fuzzed out and flat at the same time. It’s a fuzzy, plastered-to-my-head mess. Totally limp and lifeless. Worse than ever, if possible. Very sad. VERY sad.
Privacy. I miss privacy. I need a fence. Badly. Very, very badly. It’s cute only so long that the neighbors hang over the fence and call to the dogs that are sleeping in the family room to come out and play. And I found out today I also need blinds. I was creeping around my room finding something to wear, avoiding the window that faces the neighbor’s driveway and realized I was standing in front of another window – one that faced someone’s bedroom! Way to go, me! Privacy, I miss.
Though this area is dry (relatively speaking) it rains. And when it rains … it rains. For hours. And hours. It’s lovely. I don’t miss that it rarely did that in CO. I’m a rain baby and rain is good. I don’t miss the no-rain pattern of a high desert.
Quiet. I miss quiet. This is the NOISIEST place. I’d never make it in India or China where there are gobs of people and constant noise issues. Though I’m thinking this is close! Here it is the sirens … the planes … the horns and cars … and the awful yippy dog across the street. It is constant and it is irritating. It makes me edgy. The planes are really low and loud and roaring as the airport is very close and they come in and go out at all hours of the day and night and there is a constant rumble. I find it disturbing. I miss the quiet of my old neighborhood.
And yet I don’t miss the ping of the aluminum bats at 7am in the park and the idiot fathers and coaches screaming at their children (who are trying to have fun and be in a team sport). I’ll take the neighbors playing basketball (almost in my lap) anytime over screaming coaches and pinging bats.
Friends … I might not miss my house but I sure miss my friends. And even if we didn’t see each other all too often, it’s knowing now that I CANNOT see you that gets me.
And don’t even get me started on missing Sam.