Thursday, July 20, 2006

I Don’t want to be here Tonight

I haven’t really had any “I want to go home” moments since we’ve moved. However, tonight I am really struggling. Rick has been gone since Sunday afternoon. For the most part he’s been in Las Vegas at a conference. Don’t feel too badly for him. He’s been watching fountains timed to music and lights. He’s gambled and won. He’s eaten at Quark’s and been kidnapped by Klingons. Right now he is at our mountain cabin in Colorado. Our very most private place in the world. Without me. It hurts. Even if the pack rats had taken over Beastie [our muck-around-pick-um-up-truck-with snow plow we left at the cabin], he is now in Laramie WY, sold. Not our Beastie anymore. Pretty sad. Beastie was well named. I can’t remember one time that we didn’t drive that truck into Laramie that he didn’t break down on the way back. Beastie always wanted to stay in Laramie. Now he has his wish.

There is no phone now at the cabin. Rick had to drive into Laramie to even get a signal strong enough to call me. I’m sure that tonight he is feeling about the same way as I am. Alone. Alienated. Except that he gets to see and talk to people that I miss. Larry and Donna. Ed. I miss them, I really do. Almost every weekend we went to the cabin. We had more company visit there than we did at our home down in Ft. Collins. I knew those far-flung neighbors better than the my neighbors I lived with on a daily basis. Until this job in NJ came up, we were going to move to the cabin full time. It seems a lifetime away.

I don’t really regret moving here. I love NJ. But, at times like this when I am reminded of the cabin and all the fun times, I get a bit weepy and nostalgic. It can’t be helped. Especially as I see our friends in Colorado slowly drifting away, forgetting us. I’ve seen it before when we moved to Europe both times. It just happens. Still, it’s very sad.

After the day I had today [see future article on how the dogs treed Momma bear and cubs in our yard!] I am feeling very sorry for myself. And homesick. Or is it more like cabin sick, because I miss the cabin more than I miss my old house. C’est la vie.

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