Gray Trees and November Rain

The leaves are down, leaving only the smoky gray of the trunks and branches. As I chased the last of the few bright leaves south from Boston back to Virginia, I was determined to just escape the mess of Don’s estate and let the banks fight over the remains. I wanted to be on the road, heading for warmth and the wide open spaces, far away from these piney woods filled with sad memories, and finished with lawyers and banks and forms and requirements.

But I am still here. Some of the problems just disappeared in their own, others I am not going to fight about anymore, and it seems I will get a little from the sale of his stuff after all.

On Friday, I hitched up Don’s trailer and drove it to an RV dealer down in Portsmouth, VA where it is on consignment, today there is already a buyer for the truck. The dealer doesn’t think that keeping the truck and trailer together is important. It was hard all along to have his trailer sitting here, and his beloved truck, and after I left it I cried a little, one more bit of him gone. Each thing of his that goes feels painful at first, but afterwards I feel lighter and freer. He was way more than the sum of his stuff, but it’s all I can see and hold.

It is deer season here, but not the warfare that happens in the woods of Massachusetts. Since this is a Forestry Center, it is not open to all, but only a select few, last weekend was the disabled hunt. They have blinds for people in wheel chairs. It is not pleasant to see the bodies, but I know from my walks that there are way too many deer here for the forage available, and so the big predators with the guns must try to get a better balance. I have been only walking around the buildings while this goes on. The hunters are finding few deer ! I suspect they are all in a casino somewhere waiting for the season to end.

The remains of hurricane Ida blew through here and made a date with another front producing heavy surf, and torrents of rain and wind. We lost power here, not a problem for me in my survival capsule, although I didn’t fill the water tank up. We got power back the next evening, and escaped the mess closer to the shore. The Chickahominy River which runs on the southern edge of the forestry center, moved out of its banks, flowing through the trees, and every low place in the woods is now full of water. The water is black and patent leather shiny, it catches my eye often, and when I scare some deer they explode through this water, ripping and splashing like an alligator attack.

Except for cleaning the offices, there isn’t much for me to do here, the grass has stopped growing, the flower beds are all cut back, and the conference center and its motel rooms are now being done by a cleaning service. The folks here don’t seem to mind that I’m slacking, as there isn’t much to do. So I spend my days going through everything in the Airstream, every drawer, cubby hole and closet, shedding more of my skin.

Stuff. Stuff of Don’s that I’m having a hard time letting go of, although that is getting easier. So I have that wave of extra stuff, and then, while I was living in his trailer, I cleaned out most of the stuff stored in my daughter’s basement and just parked it in here too. A lot of that is clothes that I know I will never wear again, but I loved them when I bought them, some were expensive, and they served me well. I guess I sort of miss being the person who dressed up, either to go out, or just fun clothes to wear at dinner time. I think I am having a hard time giving up a tiny dream of needing fancy clothes. Maybe it is difficult to realize I will never do the season at Cannes, or the opening of a Broadway show. Not that I am pining for that, it’s just seeing that the possibilities of my future are not the endless vistas of my youth.

For both Don and I, having tools is our proof of being handy and competent. We both delighted in having just the right tool, and knowing how to use it to swoop in and solve a problem. So we had a huge collection between us, really more than RVers have any business toting around. His big power tools are gone, and everything that was a duplicate of mine, no need for 6 hammers, for example. I had a hard time with his sockets and wrenches, but the truth is I don’t know enough about mechanical stuff, and they are so heavy. If I need those tools then I also need someone who knows what they’re doing, so off they went. I spent a hard day going through all of my own tools, weeding out the ones that were sentimental, not used. Actually, the tools were harder than the clothes.

Food. We left the North Rim with half of our summer’s food uneaten. I’ve given a lot away, just no room in the Airstream, and the rest I’m determined to eat before I hit the road, especially the canned stuff. I’ve always horded food, which is ridiculous as I have never gone hungry. There are stores everywhere, and I don’t think anyone sensible thinks we need to fear a lack of food. Maybe if I was in a hurricane, or a big earthquake, but even then. And some of the food is ingredients for food Don loved, and I won’t cook just for me, so out they go. No need for three cans of enchilada sauce.

So now, I just tinker with things in the Airstream, installing a new water pump, chasing leaks, doing a little redecorating in a western theme, and wait until the papers that are wandering around in the mails get through their appointed rounds. Then, I can move on.

For Thanksgiving, Don’s daughter (the good one!) and her husband are coming to the Airstream for the turkey and fixin’s. I had a thought that I would just be by myself, and eat what I wanted (lobster, oysters, cake) and be thankful not to be cooking for a mob. But this will be better and cosy!

Wherever you are, whatever you eat, whoever is at the table with you, blessings on the folks and the food. Let us all look for ways to make the lives of others better, and that will be sustenance beyond buying, beyond cooking, yeah, even beyond pie ! Happy Thanksgiving !