There is still snow on the ground, and they tell me we may get more but I don't believe them. You never know, though. In all things, there is always hope. I hope we get some more while I'm sitting around eating endlessly with my many families and that we get none on our drive home in a few days.
I've been whining about driving here and there with a cloud of guilt over my head all Christmas leave, not having a moment to contemplate the season, the snow, the impending deployment, not having a moment to read, not having a moment but instead being in a constant state of planning the next move. Well, I know that's all my own fault and peace comes within and all that stuff that people say. Anyway, I'm sorry it's almost time to leave our families and to take Joseph away from Oklahoma, the place he loves, but I look forward to New Year's Eve, at least.
Knowing, of course, that anything you look forward to can end up not coming to pass. Don't speak to me of that just now. I'm well aware of it and don't need to be reminded.
On New Year's Eve we go to my father's house, lay around, eat something good, and, at midnight, blow the bullhorn into the Adair County night. Then we listen to the first gun shots of the New Year echo around the valley. It's always good, and no matter how manic Christmas is, New Year's Eve is always peaceful.
Tomorrow, amazingly, we don't have plans. We're going to try to sneak out on a date, me and this man I'm traveling around with, who in another life in New York is my husband. In all the running around, it's hard to catch up, and I miss him.
This blog is disorganized. I'm disorganized. I have things to say but no energy left.