Count This As Monday

Since it's 15 minutes to 1AM here and my son is still in Wyoming where it is 15 minutes to midnight, I'm posting this blog entry from where my heart is.

I'm rethinking the whole mountain air theory today.  The drive to and from Gillette swallowed up four days of our lives while the visit with family gobbled a mere five in trade.  Hardly an even swap when one considers what happens to the stomach and fanny during all of that road travel.  And yet, those of us back at home base find ourselves missing the landscape and the characters dotting it.  Immensely.

What happened?  Usually, we go, have a mix of good times, exhaustion, tension, and are more than ready to get back to regular life by the prescribed return date.  And, we do appreciate our life in Tennessee.  Our lovely comfortable home; our tree-filled expanse of yard; our superb neighbors and wonderful church family; and who am I without my Earth Divas?!

But about all I yearned for in terms of daily normalcy was a healthier diet.  But I'm fairly certain brown rice and more vegetables aren't difficult to come by with just a bit of shelf-searching.  Sushi and pho might have been a stretch, though.

It must be that jutting tower of rock called "Devil's Tower."  We hiked around it, rapt in the wonderment of this state park, admiring its beauty, recalling how it was in the film, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind."  Who can forget Richard Dreyfuss and his papier mache fixation?  Maybe aliens now inhabit our brains and yearn to return to their rock.  

My only boy stayed  behind for another week.  Babysitting, enjoying the big-hearted generosity of our family members over there, asserting his independence, and generally not missing his bossy mom too much though she feels his absence keenly.  Perhaps he has caused this unrest -- for lack of a better word -- within.  But, his big sister doesn't miss him and SHE misses our people and the Wild West.

The source of these feelings is undoubtedly simpler than my round-the-barn search.  Though we love the southeastern allure of Middle Tennessee, we are Westerners at heart.  The mountains and vast hilly expanses arrest our vision and grab at our hearts.  The same goes for the people.  My husband grew up with most of these folks.  Our children grew up with most of their families.  At a time when our lives are in constant upheaval, as kids climb up and out of the nest and parents readjust their identities accordingly, the familiar seems the most like home.

We left our home.  But as I said to everyone, "This isn't goodbye.  It is only a see-you-later."