I stand in your presence
Lost in your dark regard
Naked and alone.
I'm in a rambly mood this morning. If I was a garden path, I would be one of those twisty ones that doubles back upon itself as it winds through the trees and leads to sharp turns and hidden alcoves.
Friday night we had the most wonderful shish-ka-bobs. I marinated some pork in a teriyaki sauce, then layered the skewers with the pork, chuncked up red and green bell peppers and onions, then added whole mushrooms and cherry tomatoes. We went with a teriyaki marinade because if it rained and we couldn't use the pit, we could easily turn everything into stir-fry. As it was, the weather was clear so we cooked outside and I got to use the cast, metal skewers my father brought me back from Turkey. My friend Kate was there and had brought a friend of hers that was in from Mississippi visiting. So I had to break out some store bought bamboo skewers as well and then had to explain to him the point of soaking the flammable wooden ones before putting them on a fire, LOL.
It was a good evening. The guys bonded over leather gear and craftsmanship - what thickness of leather was actually needed for good leather armour and how did you make that, while Kate and I puttered in the kitchen discussing food, how to reproduce the turkish skewers, and the best way to incorporate a knife or two into her turkish clothing for events. The style of her clothing is a bit limiting in that regard, but I think we have it worked out.
That is an interesting thing I noticed this weekend. Kate had never been to Tim's knives, so we took her on Saturday because he always has an interesting selection of utility knives, fantasy blades, LARP equipment, and what not. Some of the what nots, this time round, were buckets of discounted sheathes. I was digging through the buckets just to see what was in there and was amazed at the shoddy workmanship. People pay for that stuff? What I realized, though, is that once you start doing your own leather work and craftsmanship, retail items loose a lot of their gloss. I could make better sheaths then he could sell. Kate had the same reaction to the suit of chainmail on the wall. It wasn't bad chainmail, but if she needs chain, she has a ton of friends that make it. It is not something she would ever think of buying from a store.
Ariel came back from spending the weekend with John's parents and Chuck returned from his French Club convention in Lafayette. All were in good spirits. We made more burnt offerings in the back yard for supper, this time in the form of hamburgers, then loaded up the van with a spare futon and some extra pillows that were taking up space and our house and brought them over to Kate's apartment. She does floor seating instead of chairs and couches, so the extra addition of futon, on the floor and leaned again the wall, and the extra pillows and cushions, blended nicely, while being kinder to my old back.
We have two more additions to the work out schedule. Chuck, since he is not working right now, wants his dad to put him on a 4 day work out schedule. This is good because Chuck can spot John's heavy lifting. I can't hardly load the bar for the amount of weight he uses. I was hoping the other J would start working out with John after their sparing match but their schedules don't match up enough, so this is good. Kate also wants to start working out. She will probably be on the same schedule and routine as me. LOL, that makes, on most nights, 4 people alternating working out. John's Gym and Personal Training. I should sell memberships. He wants to get his personal training certification so that might not be a such long shot.
It seems the moving plans have changed again, or possibly just gotten re-rooted in reality. We have given up the idea of moving to Islamorada in the Florida Keys in two years when both of the kids will be in college. We are back to buying a bit of John's family's land from his grandmother and moving out to Deerford. This was the original plan before I went off on a pipe dream. We drove out there on Sunday, just to pass by. It is so over grown. The logging company has planted the 300 acres in pine, but they haven't cut yet. I think it's been about 4 or 5 years since they planted. The front 10 acres, the part we would buy, is so over grown that you would never know we had cleared it many years ago. The land, the large 300 acre part, has the most beautiful oak grove I have ever seen. The logging company was not allowed to cut any of it. As it was they tore up 100 year old magnolias and destroyed our blackberry bramble. We used to take the kids out there camping when they were little. I can remember sleeping in the tent and the cattle, who's eyes were only glowing red dots across the camp fire, would finally come in and investigate. We'd hear, "Stomp, stomp, MOOOO. Stomp, stomp, MOOOO." Totally freaked the dog out :) It was awesome.
All in all, it was a fairly good weekend. No kids, not really any stress, but certainly an emotional roller coaster. It seemed a lot of past things wanted to come up and be dealt with. There were tears, there was laughter, there was old, supposedly dealt with, anger and pain that resurfaced. I felt a sense of relief, in a way at the time, but now am feeling a bit maudlin and out of sorts. Some things just hurt so bad I don't want to look at them, but to move forward with my life, I have to do so. I think John is finally understanding how deeply some of our past situations have affected me. We are facing some of the repercussions now of those past decisions. The weekend has left me having to go through those old emotions and resettle them, deal with them, revisit them, and try to move past them.
Hence, the rambling.
Behind me is all that is safe and secure and what keeps me stuck in the same old patterns of behaving and acting. Before me is a dimly glimpsed road of what may be if I dare to cross, some good, some bad.
The fear is in crossing the street, of letting go of the known and walking into the unknown. I get closer and closer to crossing that street, but fear causes my feet to drag and for each two hesitant steps forward that I take, I stumble back one and feel like I have lost a mile.