My head ached like a demon this afternoon, but it's starting to settle down now. Life has always been a busy endevour for its duration of me and it together - always something to do, always somewhere to go, always someone to take care of. But this year has been different, like I'm settling into a permanent routine and taking stock of what seems important, tangible, indelible, and, well, settling. A few years ago my sister told me, as I was propped on the counter in mom and dad's kitchen, that I was a prime example of taking on life by the seat of my pants - no particular rhyme or reason. And it was true. Bang on, actually. I never had a plan and rarely had a direction and I don't think I minded because I didn't know any different. I answered to the wind and followed its direction with sometimes dizzying speed.
But now I'm settling in to an area of the country that has generations upon generations of settler-iners. Just last night we went up to the Ridge where my uncle opened a little canteen. If you're unfamilar with these sorts of operations, they're a greasy spoon with no place to sit, only a little window to order off a menu that is nailed beside it, that was printed by my second cousin because they were the neatest one of the bunch. Nothing fancy except big scoops of ice cream and a hamburger that never saw a meat press to form it. And onions. Onions on the grill with grease that would probably fix your wheel bearings in a pinch. And it was so good I could have probably eaten two more. My aunt was up and she called me on the way into town. You around tonight, sis? Yep, I'll be here. Mom and I met her at Grampie's. The boys were there. Grandkids were there. Neighbours were there. Cousins were there. People I didn't know were there. And it was perfectly perfect in so many strange and indescribable ways.
The sun hasn't broken out in days. It's rainy and wet and depressing in general. But I'm learning that it's like most rotten things... it too shall pass.
There is no good in arguing with the inevitable. The only argument available with an east wind is to put on your overcoat.
James Russell Lowell