Excuse me, but do I know you?

Doppelgängers.

They’re a trick of the mind.

I see them all over the place.

I find myself in mid-greeting, with hand half-raised, ready to hail someone I think I know only to I realize “I don’t,” that they merely resemble someone from back east—sort of. 

Then there’s that vertigo-esque feeling I get when talking to someone and for just a split second I think: “Hang on a sec—how do I know you? From here—from back east?”

Weird.

Really weird!

Stop in mid-sentence kind of weirdness.

It’s doing a number on my mind, leaving me feeling a bit, well... schizophrenic.

It’s hard to explain. 

Maybe my mind—my psyche—is fighting to hang on to my former life as we’ve entered our third year here in Wyoming.

Maybe it’s an adjustment, that everyone experiences, after living in a new place for a while.

It would make for some interesting research.

Research is on my mind, a lot, these days—but that’s another post.

So if I don’t say “hi” to you one of these days, don’t be offended.

It’s because I won’t have figured out if it’s really you, or merely your doppelganger!  

Happy Holidays!

Holiday Cheer to all!

We didn't make it to my folks in the Midwest this year to celebrate Christmas with them and the rest of my family. 

We're disappointed, but with the thick fog that has rolled in, we're glad to be cozy in our house this evening.

I tried to get photos but alas, this is the best I could do

 Although our little family doesn't celebrate Christmas, this is what we had roasting this afternoon (plus all the trimmings)...
 

 We figured we would be eating this at my brother's house, so why not here in little ole Laramie.

It was the smallest bird they had, but at 13 lbs, I think we'll be eating turkey for some time to come.

Stay safe, be warm and be happy!

Still here…

For those few who still might be reading this blog, I’m still here.

Summer travels prevented me from posting.

I hope you all have had a good summer.

To my fellow blogophiles, I have a lot of reading—and catching up—to do...

That’s what friends are for…

I‘d been feeling a bit “adrift” as of late.

Friends here told me it was the weather---the sunny, 65º days interspersed between days with snow flurries, freezing temperatures and wind.

I didn’t think it had anything to do with the weather since everyone had warned me it would be like this.


[Early this morning after dropping off the teenager.]

This morning after class, while waking and talking with a new friend, it hit me—the reason I have been feeling adrift as of late.

It has nothing to do with the “adventure” being stale, which is what I was worried it might be.


[This morning the teenager tried to capture the sun peeking through the heavy cloud cover to shine on the Snowies.]

In less than four months, we will have been here a year, which means during this next year we will need to decide what to do about our house back east.

If we sell, I will lose my sense of equilibrium.

I have had a fixed address in the D.C. area for 32 years—somewhere to call home and a place to always return to.

Without a fixed address, I will feel un-tethered, adrift so to speak, or like Tom Petty, who is perpetually “free, free fallin.”

I feel this HUGE sense of relief!


[Ditto: another shot by the teenager]

Feeling off kilter has nothing to do with being unhappy here, which is what had me worried.

No. Instead, it has to do with a fear of feeling stateless—homeless—landless.

Okay. I over dramatize. I have a home here, in Laramie.

However, it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks…

Change is hard, and takes time getting used to—even if one happens to like the change.

So now, I know and I thank my new friend, for helping me to see what I could not see on my own.

I guess that’s what friends are for…

Memory Lapse

Seven and ½ months ago, we left Arlington to make our way to Laramie.

Seven months ago, today, we took possession of what we now call home.

Recently, I have a hard time remembering my “pre-Laramie” existence.

I remember our friends, of course (and miss them terribly), and our house (but don’t think about it much anymore), and the teenager growing up, and school and work, etc.

Somehow, though, it feels as though I’ve lived here for a lot longer than seven months.

Now and then, I must admit, I do have an occasional bad spell.

Like last month, when I wrote to a friend that I was feeling a bit adrift, between two worlds and just a tad schizophrenic.

It was the 6-month mark and I wasn’t thinking about our house much anymore, and I'd stopped calling VA "back home" and we were getting to know new people, but still missing old friends.

I told her that when it was all new and different, it was like being on a temporary adventure, even though I knew it was for long term.

I told her that the longer I'm here, the more I can see myself staying here, for awhile at least, and then I’d wonder: who am I, where am I going and where do I belong?

She in turn told me that my feelings were natural and that there is a time when it stops being a new adventure and one has to settle into the reality of what has occurred.

Somehow, her words helped. I’m not sure if I’m there yet, where reality sets in, but I must be pretty close.

I realized months ago that I wasn’t in a dream, that I wouldn’t wake up and find myself in my bed, back on Utah Street, but rather that "this is in fact it," our new life.

Sometimes I’m still amazed that we did it, the Legal Dude and I, two middle-aged fogies who somehow managed to make a huge life change when we can’t even decide on plans for the weekend.

The Legal Dude has been back, to D.C., thrice now. He’s gotten to see friends, be in his office and eat at familiar restaurants.

I’ve yet to go back, and wonder what it will be like when I return for a visit in June.

Will it feel strange? Will I cry? Will I remember my life there?

Will I remember there that my life now, is back here, in Laramie?

When no news is "not" good news...

Ugh!

I got a call this morning from our renters.

Two branches fell on the roof sometime during the storm, but they don’t think they did any damage.

More serious though, is a damp spot between the living and the dinning rooms where a teeny tiny bit of drippage lasted about 15 minutes.

But that was 2 days ago!

So why am I just getting a call this morning?

I made arrangements for our contractor guy to take a look see. He told me they would probably have to remove the snow from the roof.

I checked in on our renters twice during the storm to make sure everything was okay. I told them to call if there were any problems.

Earlier this week I’d been feeling the pull to contact them again, but told the Legal Dude, “No news is good news.”

Besides, I don't want to hound them.

Now I know better. I need to listen to my gut.

Gad…there’s always something.

Post Script: During the teenager’s bb game this afternoon, the Director was telling me how their house was pretty much destroyed during the rare tornado that came through two years ago.

Kind of puts things in perspective, a bit.

A bittersweet New Year’s Eve…

Yesterday evening was New Year’s Eve...

Like you, we celebrated…and bid adieu to...a year gone by as we welcomed in the New Year.

In reality though, our “New Year” began nearly 5 months ago...when we drove into Laramie, Wyoming, and started this new chapter in our lives.

I’m glad I can say that it’s been (mostly) a good 5 months...adjusting to a new home, new friends and a completely different way of life.

This morning, though, I’m feeling just a smidge melancholic.

Hard to say why...but then I always feel a bit this way every New Year.

Maybe it’s the residual after-effect of celebrating.

You know...with the bubbly stuff.

Maybe it’s because I’d forgotten that we’re so far from home...and from friends with whom we’ve celebrated so many a New Year’s Eve.

Last night we celebrated with some new friends...neighbors who live up the street.

There were six of us plus two kid-lets and, of course, the teenager.

It was very nice and pleasant sitting in front of the fire-place, eating tapas-like finger foods and a slow cooked chicken madras dish by the Legal Dude, all the while chatting and laughing.

Even though it was all pulled together at the very last minute, we were organized and ready and I had an opportunity to really visit and chat with our guests...something that I missed at our parties back in Arlington.

It was nice...but different. But definately a nice different.

The Legal Dude and I talked about it this morning.

We determined what was different, and what we miss, is the “activity”---the planning, the preparation, the cooking and the execution of the party...and for me, the decorating and setting up---and of course, all our friends.

So while we had a great time and enjoyed celebrating in our new home with some new friends, it was a bittersweet occasion as we miss what we used to have...and do...every New Year’s Eve for the past 4-5 years.

But hey! There’s another new year...next year.

Who knows?

We might just have to start a new tradition here...

Wishing you all the best as you start your New Year.

Ironic

Legal Dude has been in D.C. this past week.

He’s supposed to fly back West Saturday morning.

Doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen.

Frontier Airlines cancelled Saturday’s flights Friday afternoon…before the snow even started to fall.

Legal Dude was scheduled to meet us at DIA Saturday evening and then fly together to points south and then north again.

Frontier says the earliest they can get him to Denver is possibly Monday evening…depending on what happens at the airports.

If he’s a no show for the first leg of our trip out of Denver on Saturday, the rest of his ticket/trip is cancelled, which means we have to buy him all new tickets.

I expected this to happen here in Wyoming…not D.C.

Hope you D.C. people stay safe, are able to get to your destinations and that you enjoy the snow!

Ole Mother Hubbard Went to the Cupboard…

Only to find this sign at her local Safeway…


I guess they closed I-80 last night...or early this morning...due to the snow and wind.

I’ve heard tell that the cupboards can get a wee bit bare during winter when the roads from Denver, Cheyenne, and Fort Collins are closed.

Now we’re wishing we had taken advantage of the University Ag Department’s offer of a “whole cow” (or however much you wanted) at $2.50 per lb!!!

Live and learn baby…live and learn!

September 11...

I’m so ashamed. I forgot that today is September 11. I can claim that I’ve been so confused with the days lately…not getting a newspaper or having to be anywhere…but I have The Washington Post as my home page and I knew it was coming, and yet, I still forgot…until I turned on the TV this morning. I don’t want to ever become immune or complacent…or forgetful about this day (or August 29, when Katrina devastated New Orleans), especially since I’m so far away, and today…I especially feel so very far away.

I wasn’t at “home” in Arlington…on the East Coast…for that 8:46 am moment of silence. I was here, on Mountain Time, at 6:46, just waking for a new day. I wish I had remembered, so I could have paid homage at that moment in time, like I would have at “home.”

I was working catty-corner from the Department of Treasury on September 11, 2001 and was sent home soon after the Pentagon was hit. The streets were filled with terrified and sobbing D.C. workers, all trying to call someone on their cell phones, which, as a result, overloaded the system and no one was able to get through to anyone else. Fortunately for me, my dearest friend from Maryland was able to get through to my phone to let me know that J’s school was keeping the kids in class until parents could come and get them. Her call was such a relief since it was his first few days as a kindergartener in a new school where we didn’t know any of the other families, but especially because S and I were both on the D.C. side of the Potomac River.

I remember the terror I and the other thousands of D.C. workers felt as a jet flew low overhead, knowing full well that the skies had been closed. Then someone shouted…”it’s a military plane!” I remember seeing the smoke billow from the Pentagon as I drove a young, terrified co-worker home (once I was able to retrieve my car) and I remember the sound of the military jets flying all night long, patrolling the skies for weeks afterwards. I want to keep on remembering all of these things and exactly how I felt that day and the weeks afterwards so that I never do forget what happened…or the people whose lives were lost that day. So I will make time today to watch the special programs and to read the special tributes…

On a positive note…I will never forget that September 11 is the birthday of two young and adorable friends…one was born on September 11, 2001, and the other was born on September 11, 2008. Happy Birthday to them!!!!!

Edited to Add:
[oops...that should be September 11, 2007. So sorry to M...ito!]

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I am saddened this morning by the news of the passing of Senator Ted Kennedy.

I was 14 at the time of Chappaquiddick and for a good portion of my life, I remember Ted Kennedy being the butt of jokes and in the press for tabloid-esque behaviors. Not wanting to get political, all I will say is that I admired his passion, his seemingly tireless energy, his ability to move beyond his transgressions to do good works, and his ability to earn the grudging respect and admiration of those who would be his enemies.

Somehow, the news of Senator Kennedy’s passing leaves me feeling so very far away. As I write this, funeral arrangements are yet unknown. I don’t know if any memorial services will take place in D.C., but I would want to pay my respects if I were still at home. Watching the news on MSNBC or listening to NPR momentarily transports me back home, but then I become aware of my surroundings and realize…I’m a world away from D.C.

Thanks for checking in…