Saturday, July 17, 2010

On Solitude...

Yesterday it rained off and on. Despite the weather, I was an instrument of efficiency. I got a ton of housework done and even managed to do some gardening and make a cheesecake. I finished long waiting projects, like finishing drilling holes in the bottoms of ceramic pots (that I bought in Tucson when I was there last in February) for my succulent collection. I crossed a lot of stuff off my list.

While I was cleaning, I was thinking about a lot of friends I haven't seen for awhile. I was still thinking of them today and was making plans in my head for a picnic or a small adventure. I picked up my phone and started to look up one of my friend's phone numbers. Then it struck me, "Oh yeah, they live in New York." My fantasies of an impromptu adventure quickly fizzled.

I haven't minded the solitude of country life. Sure, when I first moved here it was hard, but I eventually grew into the daily routines and truly enjoy the space and fresh air. I feel as though I've grown into myself here. Distractions like the kittens (who are now little cats) and the garden have filled huge holes in my heart. There are days though when I miss my own friends and family. I miss the dinner parties and the picnics and thinly veiled excuses to get together. I miss being able to call up one of my friends and within the hour have someone to hang out with. I miss rooftop barbecues and endless pitchers of sangria. I miss conversations over coffee and lunches at cafes and drinks at the local hangout.

I think there's only so much missing a person can do before their brain starts to burn. My head started to pound. Soon I thought of nothing but the cool darkness and the two warm bodies pressed against me. Every now and then a concerned sniff or a curious meow.

I'm better now, but there is a faint echo of each, I'd write more, but there is so much to be done.

6 comments:

Elizabeth said...

I so understand about missing. But as I have aged and in my late 5th decade, there is a sweetness about the absences. I find now I think how lucky I am to have loved so many people who seem to have loved me back. It gives me solace and hope, oddly enough. Beautiful post.

kate mckinnon said...

And it sounds to me that a weekend in the City might be just the thing. Maybe you can do that soon?

I was napping this afternoon (maybe laying down at the same time you were) and when I woke up, the sky was dark and full of clouds. Now I'm waiting for the rain, if it comes.

I'm sorry you got a headache. I can only imagine.

Emerald Window said...

Although there aren't as many people to choose from, I think you'll find some kindred spirits in the country. It takes a little more planning and traveling to get together, but when it happens, the magic is still there.
Cenya

Andrew Thornton said...

Hey Kate McKinnon,

A trip to the City is definitely in the cards. I'm looking forward to it. When exactly, I don't know. I'll have to figure out he logistics. I'm looking forward to a trip back.

OH! The headache was the preamble to a beautiful display of lightning later in the evening. I thought it was due to not enough coffee, but later I saw flashes of light and then all the dots were connected.

Andrew Thornton said...

Oh, no doubt Cenya... it's just meeting them that's the rub. I'm sure that the longer I live here, the more friends I'll make. But it'll take time and effort.

Andrew Thornton said...

Elizabeth, after having done the show circuit, I find that many of my friends are scattered across the country and spread far and wide. Most of my college friends have also moved away from the City. I do feel lucky to know so many people and to have loved so many people.

Thank you for finding a way to connect with me here. It's a wonderful thing that friendships can be maintained through this invisible force called the Internet.