Thursday, May 20, 2010

Making Peace With Change...Sorta...Sometimes


It's been over a week since I've slept more than 5 hours in a day and there have been at least two with none for over 24 hours. I don't do change well, especially the transition stage. So this temporary stay in the camper parked in my brother-in-law's driveway has been really hard to deal with--from the prep and packing in the days before we left the house Monday to the dark of night treks into the to house for the restroom; from fretting over a freaked out kitty to cringing under the onslaught of rain, hail on the metal skin of the camper; from the nerve-wracking rocking of the camper by the wind and by every movement made by us (Ed turning over in bed or going in and out for his cigs are the worst) to the aching of muscles and joints from the chill wee hours air because I'd packed for the summery weather we were having late last week ; from the frustrations of working with a cranky internet and/or wifi connection that adds hours to post prep to the alarm when an unidentifiable animal vocalization commences just outside the door to the camper at 3 AM and circles the camper and yard several times escalating in intensity and obvious distress (Ed said it was a coon when it woke him but now he's telling me it was a turkey that accidentally flew over its fence and didn't know how to get back to it cajoling tom); from the constant calls of a peacock to the yammering yaps of three miniature Dobermans day and night; from the navigating in poor light the unfamiliar living-room, kitchen and dining-room sometimes milling with 8 or 9 full-sized people plus a toddler to navigating the well-lit but confined space in the camper with multiple tripping hazards in every square foot (throw rugs and oddly placed and spaced steps primarily) there hasn't been a moment conducive to adjustment.

But today we had to go back to Phoenix to return and retrieve waiting library items and refill my prescriptions and while there I was in our room gathering together extra clothes (we had packed for 2.5 days that turned into 5) including a couple long-sleeved shirts and a fleece jacket and as I rummaged around in the mess I'd made while packing Sunday and realized that even returning home wasn't going to be instant relief, I began to hanker for a quick return to the camper. My first clue that adjustment had begun. Just in time for tomorrow's return home I have begun to relax into the stay here. Another clue was the intense sleepiness and craving for sleep that began this afternoon on the drive back. I crashed soon after we got back here and slept until Ed called me for dinner. If not called I think I would still be asleep. I'm hoping to get to sleep again in plenty of time to get a full eight hours before noon tomorrow when I will have to begin the packing and cleaning up for our return home tomorrow followed by the unpacking and re-organizing of our room there.

But it hasn't been all bad. I didn't intend to make it sound so. There have been moments of pure joy. When holding little Emma Sue, their 20 year old toothless cat who is so gentle and loving; when watching Goliath the Basset watch the gopher hole for endless minutes; when seeing the sun break through a dark bank of clouds over the hills to the west that rise above the roof of that old barn pictured in yesterday's post; when stepping lightly on my mini-tramp under a partly cloudy sky seeing the rainbow halos of nearly everything caused by the wet sheen left behind by the recent drizzle and the dancing of the young willow's branches in the gusty breeze; when watching the movie Lovely Bones with my niece last night which had special meaning to us because she had read the book when participating with me in the Read-a-thon two summers ago and I'd read it the following week; when watching the movie Australia on Ed's laptop alone in the wee hours of yesterday morning (oh I could watch that movie again and again); when crawling into the feather bed this afternoon and falling into hard sleep.

Speaking of which....

1 tell me a story:

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