The Small Things of Home

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The Campo family at the funeral of Ellie, the mom’s, mother, 2010.

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Himself: Made his phone call and wasn’t blown off. Call again Friday at 11am, he was told. I, the nay sayer, begin to believe he will be needed here after July. Herself: Got a leg cramp in my bad leg at the fair, went to work and treated it as if there wasn’t enough of something in my system. Vastly better today. Gratitude: That folks have begun donating to the Cancer Society Thrift Store again. The back room was so full yesterday that I could barely reach the mountain of books to sort them.

I love vacations. As a retired artist, vacations give me a chance to go to work recording, painting with pixels, writing, creating one way or another in fresh and stimulating new environments. They give me a chance to come home too.

It’s good to be back home. It’s wonderful to get back into our routine, hug friends, talk cars with the car folks….for not only do they do car shows at the Geezers museum, they work at the Thrift store too. It’s wonderful to meeting with other friends over a cup of coffee and a word or two. My words grow thinner but still they welcome me. It’s clearing to climb into the water every morning again. It’s good but sad to see family members at their grandmother’s funeral. Special people all growing away from home.

It’s good to partake in all our communities from a friend that will listen to G but likes me also, to the giant crow family that raises their chick in our front yard year after year. This year’s baby’s cry wasn’t as grating on the ears as usual. It was a half formed sound that penetrated our consciousness every two hours. Yesterday morning, the baby sounded very faint...as if it has fallen out of its nest. By afternoon, we couldn’t hear it any more. The parents were silent too.

That is also part of home.