My husband, father of my child, love of my life, and provider extraordinaire has demanded to do something so far out of his wheelhouse that it's not even in the same dimension. And he's attacking it with gusto, bold bravado, and a confident swagger. Tomorrow--with help from my uncle and aunt--he is going to pack up all my stuff, Jessie's stuff, his stuff, our joint stuff (unloading and reloading the trailer with wood and equipment); put away the mini cooper; and shut the house up till we come back for the Great Wedding in September. Then Saturday morning at the earliest crack of dawn he is going to take to the open roads pulling a trailer with a minivan whose passengers are three dogs, two cats, 10 lbs of huckleberries, and (I hope) 20 lbs of cherries. He will brave the gas stations, rest stops, fast food joints, and La Quinta with nothing but his quick wits and his wallet to succor him.
I am reminded of the words he wrote for our wedding invitation 22 years ago: "The dangers fearsome, the odds incalculable, the rewards overwhelming, our love unbounded, we hope for your company as our adventure begins." The adventure this time begins Saturday, and it'll be all his. I have mapped his route, made his hotel reservation, lined up packing assistance, and made lists of things to pack. That's all I can do.
Now I take a breath and mourn the last, lost half of my summer in Montana. Last year we didn't get to go at all, and this year felt short at only two months (we got spoiled with up to four months there when we were homeschooling). That two months just turned into one, and if it weren't for Ed (my uncle) and Susan's wedding in September there, it would have broken my heart not to go back now.
But I am going to do my damnedest to have my health issues wrangled and under control so there is no question about me going to the wedding. First step: find a primary care physician tomorrow, get in, get a physical, and get on BP meds. Second step: lose the weight. I am at high risk for Type 2 diabetes and not doing my joints any favors by making them work so hard. Finally (oh Cynthia, isn't this fun?!?) I need to have a sleep study done to see if my snoring and occasional apnea are contributing to the rest of my issues. I may end up eating my words of this morning and having to wear one of those sleep thingies too.
It's been a mad ride since we got back to Austin, and now (for me at least) it has stilled. I'll spread my mother's ashes in Montana in September. I'll clean and winterize the house there, ship back anything that might be missed in tomorrow's packing then too. Until then, it's time to dig back in at Stone's Throw and resume life and projects here.