Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Home is...

Tropical weather sometimes makes its way to this part of Florida - generally it hits south of here or north of here, the phenomenon of being 33 miles from the gulf stream steers away the big storms, and we typically get side-swiped by those the push across the panhandle and knock down our sensitive untested yellow pines and water oaks.

I thought alot about home today - I am at home now - and it is strange to be sitting in my office with the sounds of my sick daughter yelling at Dora the Explorer (or her somewhat ambigiously gay sidekick Diego - he is gay, he just does not know it yet) about following the magic path to los montanas to somehow get the monkey what he needs to make it through the day - if I was the monkey, I would shoot myself, because obviously both Diego and Dora cannot make a decision on their own, and it really sucks to be a monkey with two folks who cannot make a decision. Maybe that is why zoo monkeys throw feces - they get sick of keepers trying to make a decision, and all they want are a few bananas, a big tree, and some good looking girl monkeys.

Last night's flight was a long one - the weather in Atlanta (when you fly Delta) is horrible from about March until June - and you get delayed and have to listen to the not so seasoned travellers bitch about flights being cancelled or ask you questions that somehow come across as "I am a real dumbass, but them big planes should be able to take off in 40 mile an hour winds and thunderstorms with rain drops as big as my hand and lightening like a Christmas tree" - with that being said, it is the deep south, and apparently, Greyhound Bus Lines has made it much cheaper to fly these days. Coming into Jacksonville was beautiful, there was a storm over the ocean, and the lightening lit up the clouds in a brownish orange - I listened to Feist, and enjoyed the light show off in the distance. It made for a 2:00 AM arrival to my comfortable bed, and then an early wake up call for some doctor work, but it was still a pretty site.

I took pictures of my house today. I wanted to remember what I have to lose - the doctor was brutally honest today, I like how a therapist just sneaks in the bomb at the last minute - and is always aware of the time - in the last 5 minutes of the session, the doctor cordially volunteered his outlook - and bleak would be positive. Granted, I have my issues, but hell at least he was honest, and he gave me two choices - stay or go, fix or flee, work or walk - then his outlook was not all that great. I included the photos - they are pretty boring photos, a kitchen, a patio, a bedroom, a living room, a dining room - all filled with 18 years worth of stuff. The art work is what I like best, the patio is my favorite place, especially when the indian hawthorne is in bloom, but this is my home.

There is one painting in the office, it is an abstract winter scene, in my mind, on some frozen lake in upstate New York, the birc trees showing their lack of color, just whites and auburns, and some intwined shades of brown -

This morning was a good morning, albeit tragically honest, and it has put me in a thoughtful place. Home is where the heart is, home is more than where your stuff is, and I have a large amount of room, with a large amount of stuff. I don't need anymore stuff, and just want to find out where my heart is - 92% travellers have the luxury of going anywhere and everywhere, and one day, I will get to go to that painted scene that hangs in my office, but right now, I long to find out where my heart is - and just define where home is.

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