Now, and Imaging Other Times and Places

January 14th, Faywood Hot Springs, Faywood, New Mexico

Mike and I take the dog out for his morning walk.  I see a rabbit hop into a bush to get away from the approaching dog.  At the same time the roadrunner scurries out of the bush and across the edge of our driveway and into our neighbor’s lot.  We walk a few feet and there’s one of the grey cats in a neighbor’s site, sitting under a tree, hoping to catch one of the many birds that gather around their feeders.  In the nearby poultry coop, the geese honk and one of the bantam roosters crows repeatedly.  

The dog wants to run, he really can’t hold himself to a walk, he’s all bunched up with potential energy.  I barely get the harness off and he explodes into a run, heading straight for a dirt bank.  Careful, careful, I warn.  In response, he veers off in another direction and Mike breaks into a run after him.  Past the peacocks and the chickens, past the crowing rooster and the honking ducks.
 

Yesterday and the day before were warm.  I was outside almost all of both days.  Today, the wind is back and even though the sun is out, it doesn’t feel as warm.  I tried to sit outside with my coffee but retreated after twenty minutes.  I’m now snuggled in the Wilbur (our trailer), the dog is curled up like a roly-poly next to me in the bed, and Mike is out working in the tent.  The electric heater is on.  It has been at least 10 degrees colder than the monthly average while we’ve been here.  I’d like to return here next year, but we’ll have to look at the actual rather than the average temperatures next time before we decide to stay for a month. 

I've been doing a lot of thinking about how to move forward, if we should stay on the road past our projected return home date at the end of March, if we should go full time year round instead of just the winters, if we should sell the house, if we should get a 5th wheel or a motor home, if we should keep our car or trade it in for something to pull a 5th wheel, etc.  

I find it interesting to go back and look at my old journal and blog entries, back before various decision points, when I was considering possible courses of action and wondering what the future would look like for us. I imagine me six months from now, after some of these decisions I'm currently considering have been made, looking back at these recent entries. Where will we be, what will our lives look like? 

Last night before I fell asleep I imagined myself back into our house in Maine:  I visualized the particulars.  It was only then that I started to feel that I missed it. I miss the comfort of our king sized, our nightly pack time--with my husband and me and the dog lying in bed watching some show or another, I miss napping on the blue couch and falling asleep while I stare at the flames flickering around the logs in the wood stove.  I miss the garden and the yard and the trees and the flowers--that, though, is a summer-vision of home.  Now, it's not green and lush and filled with the sound of crickets: it's cold and snow-covered and bleak, everything's a shade of grey.   

Home, in summer