Sunday, February 17, 2013
The hermit does not just keep me home. The hermit keeps me from doing. Last weekend's visit with Timmy was one of the nicest I have had in a while. I came home to a clean house Sunday, thanks Angie, so I was free to just do. I finished the last of 4 drawings I started a couple of years ago. I started an oil painting that kept me painting for nearly 4 hours. I entered Edith Wharton’s world for a while when I continued my reading of Age of Desire. I took a nap so I could watch 2 hours of Downton Abbey followed by Scandal…I am addicted to both.
To lay your eyes on your seldom seen relatives and to learn about their lives is a wonderful thing. To bask in my Uncle’s humor is a wonderful thing. To see our Aunt Elsie doing so well is a wonderful thing.
Another favorite story of mine was learning that when Marsha’s daughter visited Mom’s gravesite back in the fall, she saw a white butterfly dancing around and a black butterfly that had trouble flying at all. I then shared my experience last summer while walking Dolly in the field next to my workplace. Every day since Mom's death a white butterfly followed Dolly and I in that field. One day, the white butterfly was accompanied by the strangest black butterfly. It was very large and it had trouble flying. As I watched them, the black butterfly dove toward the ground. I walked over to the spot curious to examine this very strange looking black butterfly. It was no where to be found. It was as though it had gone into the ground. Hhhmmmmm.
Not sure what I might do next weekend, but for now I am going to see what Edith Wharton is up to.
I have become a hermit. Sister on the go quit going. I needed to be forced out of the house so I called my brother to invite myself and Dolly to visit the compound. Sara was going to be with her family for part of the weekend so Timmy enthusiastically said yes. He invited sister Cyn, and arranged for us to have lunch with sister Marsh in Roanoke on Saturday after his guitar lesson. During the week, Sara agreed to drive nearly an hour to my office to pick up my guitar so Timmy could deliver it the next day for new strings and a setup. His enthusiasm made me feel excited about leaving the house.
Cynthia left work early on Friday to head down to Clifton Forge. She had a wonderful visit with our old neighbors, Jess and Eileen. She visited Mom’s gravesite. She was feeling very good by the time she got to Timmy’s in the late afternoon and anxious to tell us about her day. We had a nice evening together and the five dogs were equally happy.
Leaving the five at home Saturday, Timmy, Cynthia and I drove the hour to Roanoke. While Timmy had a private guitar lesson, I enjoyed a private concert by someone trying out a guitar. He had his back to me and was not aware of his audience, which made it sweeter for me. Clearly, he liked the guitar. I couldn’t see his face, but I could read his pleasure in his body language. He was shyly pleased when I thanked him for his private performance.
After Timmy’s guitar lesson, we met Marsha and Mike for lunch. Usually our family gatherings would demand a much larger table, but this was a small group of 5 that sat comfortably at a bar table. The entire group could actually have one conversation at a time. That is rare when you have a large family. It was intimate and involved.
First picking up my guitar, we headed back to the compound and our dogs. We spent the rest of the evening in our comfort clothes, Timmy practiced his guitar assignment for the week, and conversation was easy. I felt the hermit in me calling and decided not to resist. I retired to my room to pick up where I left off on the book I just started…The Age of Desire. I felt a need to find out what Edith Wharton was up to.
I was glad I left the house.
My brother, Steve, has been working for months on a family history project. He asked me to send him photos, which took me on a fun walk down memory lane. Here are some photos I sent to him representing fond memories from my past. Enough said.