yet another quiz . . .

Maybe I’m drawn to this one due to reading Penelopiad . . . or I’m just a sucker for a quiz.

?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??

Morpheus
Take this quiz!

Quizilla | Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

Reading, sleeping

As some of you pointed out, there is little to watch on television right now so I have resorted to my oldest friend and pleasure — reading. I finished Hemingway’s The Garden of Eden — one of his more demented relationships in text. Followed that with a quick read of Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad which is lovely and strange and gave me a line I love almost as much as Faulkner’s “Caddy smells like trees” when Penelope exclaims “But when I try to scream, I sound like an owl.” Atwood is one of my favorites; but there is a piece of ice at the center of her writing that seems like reason but maybe is something much more.

Otherwise, I have done little else except hang out with Frank while he is here studying for his orals (tomorrow). Once he leaves, I feel like part of Florence will go with him. The occasional Italian expression, the love for real mozzarella and pasta, talking about our favorite city — all of these ties will unravel when he leaves and then I’ll truly be here. Or here for awhile anyway. So I find sleep is what is wrapping me during most of my time. Could I still be exhausted from the past few months; or is this really just the effect of sticky-humid-heat of life here? Who knows. But when I dream, it is of the wilderness. It is everything that surrounds me now. I thought it would be the city of stone — my subconscious still saying goodbye. Yet my sleeping self is maybe trying to process the here and now—and the owls that speak to me in the dark.

I need a new season

It’s August. Most of you are uniquely aware of this, no doubt. Certainly I’m not the only one languishing from humidity, heat, complete and resolute boredom from the dog days of summer. However, I must say, really, truly, I’m over it.

And it isn’t just the end of the summer that has me down. For the past several months I have lived away from the land of the small screen. There has been practically no television in my life. So, being a former addict of some television programming — Six Feet Under, Sopranos, LOST, West Wing — I was looking forward to a reunion with my couch (in this case Cheryl’s futon) and the flickering tube of mindlessness.

But, apparently, after Six Feet Under went down, then West Wing, Sopranos on its last season — no one bothered to fill the void with anything. Well, LOST will return surely. I became aware of this last night when it occurred to me I had a TV. Began to surf  channel after channel, finding nothing. At least nothing until 11 when The Daily Show came on. Thank you Jon Stewart for saving me from the inflated sense of cultural elitism required in ex-pats everywhere — and possessing a complete disdain for all things television. The American within me celebrates you. (Well, at least until LOST comes back. Then I’ll celebrate how hot Sawyer is.)

Pine trees, swamps, the usual

My impromptu self pointed the car towards my parent’s farm yesterday morning. With company coming for several days and future travel plans on the horizon, I realized this may be the best time for a visit. As much as I hate driving in towns—traffic, idiots, red lights timed against you—driving down the highway and in the open is not so bad. All of the planted pine forests and swamps of north Florida rolling by sooth. That evening, mom, Lucy, and I listened to the tree frogs and night sounds after a lovely summer storm and some wine. One would think this would be a peaceful setting.

But, it is my family. And while the night was unwrapping the dark, my mother was finalizing contracts, dad was writing something for his campaign, and typical chaos was carried out on keyboards and cell phones into the evening. Entertaining til the end and progress always. Hopefully we will all have that energy in our mid-60s. Or if not the energy, a comfy chair to watch the world go by.

piano, piano

And so it begins, a gentle submersion into life here. There are things I can not quite get used to: my bed, writing at home, hours of blank time. Others I readily accept: the washer and dryer, cats meowing, a microwave. Though I have driven around Tallahassee and do not have any problems managing a car, I will say I miss the walking. Walking for the sake of exercise seems too luxurious. So, when I take a stroll, I try to look at it as adventure seeking. Missing the adventure — for sure.

So I think I must take this re-acquaintance piece by piece. The big hole of depression was beginning to open up yesterday, but I think I can cross it with connections. Talking to friends here, there and everywhere in between. Plus now I am living once more in this wild landscape of the deep South. Everything is green, ripe, noisy with birds, crickets, cicadas. They all say here more than anything. So I am here, slowly.

Ummm, something is different?

I am changing—well,this time it is just the blog and title (so virtual me?). I still do not know how I’m going to go about doing what I did there, here. But I’ll try. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of the title and theme change.

Clearly, I’m not married to either. So honesty people.

Speaking of honesty, I’ve not written because I’ve been living a life of small debauchery with my visitors. There will be pictures and a video is floating around somewhere. I may turn my back on my profession and not willingly provide the information to locate the video. I will say it involves me, food, bagelheads, caffeine and a terrible, awful realization of gluttony.  And Elvis . . . but I digress.

Connected

Michelle and Shelby arrived last night and so our weekend of getting me online, mowing the yard, catching up, drinking wine and living has begun. I’m feeling more connected now that I’m able to write this from home.

Coming back is easier with friends around. Yet I know that come Tuesday, a big hole will open up on the inside. But in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the moment.

More later, off to errand madness.

a sort of homecoming

Saw my parents and brother at the airport and was amazed at how easily we all slipped into our normal roles. Duncan carrying bags, Dad sleepy, Mom of course directing the scene. It was a truly great confirmation that you can return home. Well, this doesn’t feel like home, but you can always go back to family.

Almost started crying today at Target when I saw the aisles of pre-packaged existance ahead of me. It is a bit of an overload while still jet-lagged. But the low cost of living was nice to experience.

The cats have forgiven me and are happy to be back home with Alpha-Cat Julia. As for the pool, let’s call it a pond right now — lots of work to be done.

And just to be perfectly honest, as the taxi drove me towards the airport, 90% of me wanted to jump out and remain. Unfortunately, the timer at the public library is ticking away my few minutes so I’ll go into more about returning “home” later . . . 

Thanks for all the well wishes everyone. And if the Florence friends are reading, go dancing and enjoying life. I’ll be mowing my yard. And yes, it is hotter here! Grrr . . . .

the road goes ever on

or at least I hope it does.

Walking away from all of my favorite haunts and new discoveries is difficult and I would be lying if I said I was not a bit sad. Once I commented that everything seems to flow away from this place; with all of its history it can seem trapped and immovable. But that is forgetting that in order to flow away from, you have to get there first. So now I’m looking forward to return, some current that will bring me back—probably determination and will. And then from there or from here — who knows. Nothing is permanent, except perhaps what you find in yourself.

I’ll write again from across the pond.

Things I’ll miss #9

There is a reason I came here. Reading my ramblings may give the impression that it is all play (and there is a good bit of that), but I do work. And I love my job. Reference, cataloging, recommending, shelving, even the inventory assure me always that I chose the right path. And here, I am the only person I must answer to.

Admittedly fortunate with most of my past bosses, I still love the fact I get to do things my way while working. I get to make decisions on selection, I come up with the hours and rules, I get to hire the students I want — it’s lovely. Naturally I do ask Sue for some advice or the way things have been done, but essentially it is up to me. Almost all aspects of the library and computer lab are in my domain. I know I sound like a control freak, and you may be correct in that assessment; but the responsibility of it all is wonderful. No matter how much I enjoy working with others, I have learned a lot about how I function as a one man librarian show over here and that is invaluable.

Naturally, as I write this I’m looking at the stack of books that still need to be added to the collection. Sigh. OK, so I have learned a lot — but procastination still reigns. To work!!