We are heading out of town to Tokyo tomorrow and I didn’t want to leave my blog sitting here with the bit about mistresses hanging in the air. So here I am, carving out a few minutes to jot down my thoughts while trying to finish off that last little bit of packing. It was a fairly dicey morning out here as yesterday’s weather included hours of blustery snow and ice pellets building on each other in layers. Temperatures did not warm up over night as predicted. The road in front of our house is a sheet of ice. Blue Eyes had to get the dogs off to the doggie ranch shuttle and then to the office for meetings, but thankfully I have no where I really need to go. I ran my errands earlier in the week.
As I pack for Japan, my mind seems to be pretty solely taken up with thoughts of our new beach house. Blue Eyes and I have made the drive to the beach house dozens of times since construction commenced, but lately I have been making the drive alone.
I cherish the peace and quiet of my solitary drives over to the coast. Door to door it is an 86 mile trip. My car does a pretty nifty job of getting me there in less than an hour and a half. The journey is mostly highway, but it is over a mountain range on a predominately two lane road. I cherish those uphill passing lanes. Most recently I drove over Tuesday morning for a furniture delivery and a little more face time with the landscaper. I am longing for the day that the house is solely ours. That our belongings are safely in place, beds are made, and no more contractors aimlessly wander through with no notice. I want my gorgeous copper tea pot sitting on the cooktop. I want the mugs Blue Eyes and I lovingly picked out sitting on the counter. I want my little porcelain wedding ring holder and my bottle of lotion sitting on my marble topped nightstand. I want to wake up in the morning in my bed with that gorgeous view, sip a cup of hot tea, take a stroll on the beach, and spend an entire afternoon painting in my loft. I know all that wonderfulness is only days away and the anticipation is starting to get to me. Final inspection was supposed to have happened yesterday, but with the weather, all appointments were cancelled. Even with final inspection complete, there are still lots and lots of little construction details to be finished, and Blue Eyes is still, frustratingly, dealing with the banks.
On Tuesday’s drive over I took some time to stop and take in the beauty that is the coastal mountain range. It had snowed the day before, so the forest was magical. The road was dry and that was a real blessing. As I neared highway 101, the clouds cleared, the sun shone, and the skies were so very blue. I listened to Christmas tunes and not a single negative thought or image crossed my mind. Oh how I took that for granted… before. Before, I had so much time alone. Mostly I liked it. It grounded me. Time alone helped me organize myself and get some large projects done. I wish I could say I am back to that same old Kat, the one who seemed to have everything under control, the one that would take one of the many days that my husband was off traveling and completely empty out the kitchen and scour each and every cabinet before putting everything back in its place, or shampoo all the carpets, or plant winter pansies in all the pots and beds. That Kat is sorta gone. When I open the kitchen drawers these days, things are disorganized and there are little bits of dust or crumbs and instead of making it my mission to make everything spotless, I just shut the drawer and move on. This Kat doesn’t get the same satisfaction from those kinds of projects anymore. There are no winter plants or flowers in the pots or beds. I did have Blue Eyes schedule to have white lights put on all the trees in the front yard for the season and that makes me happy. I don’t have to do anything, just look at them and enjoy them. I can’t really put my finger on whether this new Kat is more or less content than the old Kat. I’m not sure I really care. I can’t go back to the old Kat anyway. Change is inevitable.
After the furniture had been delivered and the landscapers were well on their way to re-grading our new yard, and me not quite wanting to head for “home,” I sat on my sofa looking out at the sea and wrote this poem.
As I step out,
I hear you calling
your voice is harsh and furious
your demeanor is distant and wild
I am drawn by your strength
by your presence
I want you to embrace me
but your power is crushing
Your grip is frigid
and I am breathless
Your presence alone leaves me off balance
and I fear
If I give in
you will surely carry me with you
on a path of total destruction
If I don’t submit
I will always wonder what could have been
in the hands of your icy grasp
deeper and deeper into the abyss