I'm not going to lie to you. After traveling
twenty four hours door to door from our
posh hotel in Lisbon to our doorstep in
Lewistown was quite a shock. Each place
couldn't be more different however both
have their own charm, élan, and all of the
related accoutrements. However diving off
the deep end from a historic urban city to
isolated rural Montana is most definitely a
bitch slap of reality. And so we're slowly
getting back into the groove. And along the
way reconnecting with all the reasons why
we love this place and call it HOME.
Pulling into our driveway we entered into a
construction zone. For most of the time that
we were not home, our back and side yards
were filled with heavy equipment digging
massive holes for our masonry wall footings.
It's obvious that substantial progress was
made during our absence. In particular the
development of a veritable jungle of weeds
in the few spots that weren't disturbed. So
while ultimately all will be beautiful, for
now our yard is most definitely the living
embodiment of the wild west. Hence the
first thing we must do is get wacking!
After a month of being pampered
having to take care of oneself is
beyond disconcerting. However
our home is immaculate due to
our prized housekeeper. To say
that she is a gift from God would
be an understatement. We trust her
implicitly given she loves our home
as much as we do. Yet even with a
spotless abode, we must now take
care of ourselves once more. While
that requires a bit of an adjustment,
it's nice to be back in control.
Some things never change. One of my
least favorite local spots is our grocer's
parking lot. I call the bumper car derby.
Everybody parks wherever they want
thus it's the embodiment of the wild
west. Prior to our departure they were
painting new lines for parking spaces.
However upon our return, said stripes
had already been rendered invisible by
a coating of mud, dust, and debris. If
nothing else, parking there within has
reactivated my sense of adventure. And
Isn't that what the west is all about?
Shopping in an American supermarket
proves that size doesn't matter. Back in
Portugal grocers are tiny. However they
are filled with a veritable treasure trove
of culinary delights, For all it's square
footage, the options at our local grocer
are much more limited. Which reminds
us of how finicky most Americans are.
For whatever reason our fellow citizens
really don't like to eat anything beyond
the ordinary. A fact which we find very
sad. Why can't we all take a bite out of
life? Imagine what you're missing!
Yesterday we returned to normalcy. As
we puttered about the yard many friends
stopped by to say hello. When one lives
in a small town everyone knows your
comings and goings. Writing this blog
also insures that our lives are literally an
open book. Thus we both enjoyed four
weeks of anonymity with nobody caring
who were were nor what we were doing.
Yet oddly, after a month away we were
ready to return to the fold. Post a few
hugs and some gossip I was reminded
that home is truly where the heart is.
Over the next weeks our biggest challenge
will be to actually appreciate what we've
got. There's no question that we revel in a
more urbane existence. However there's
also no doubt that we belong right where
we are in the middle of no where. From
hereon, I'm going to try to see things from
a different perspective. We have so much
to be thankful for. All one has to be willing
to do is embrace the here and now rather
than wish for whatever we don't have.
And so, I'm about to embark on a journey
of rediscovery right here at home!
