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January 28, 2006Homesick again. Still.So hoist up the John B’s sail See how the mainsail sets Call for the Captain ashore Let me go home Let me go home I wanna go home, yeah yeah Well I feel so broke up I wanna go home I woke up this morning with a sense of homesickness so profound that for three painful, chest resonating, breath-stopping heartbeats I thought I was going to cry. This is just not something I'm going to ever, ever get over. It's never going to go away. Like the way I miss Grandma, or the way I love Calvin. Homesickness is just as deeply ingrained in me. The only way to get it to stop is to just go home. Go home. The best pairing of words in the English language. Or any other language, I assume. If I knew any other language. Allez à la maison. Gehen Sie nach Hause. Vada a casa. Ga naar huis. Vá para casa. My needs, I think, are humble. A modest little home (like this place, I think. Or maybe this one. Ooh, this one has its own brook. I remember this house and have always loved it. This one too. This place is cute. This one has its own apple orchard.) At least an acre of land, with a barn or some sort of building so Calvin can have a wood shop. No more than a 20 minute drive to the ocean, to a good horse stabling facility (though I'd like enough space to keep horses myself), and to a place that makes a good italian sandwich. I want a quiet, stress free little job. At a book store, maybe, or a library. Or one of the billion antique barns (I used to pass this place on my way to work every day) that are so prolific in Maine. The barn isn't antique (or, maybe it is), it's a barn converted into a warehouse store for local antiques. You find the coolest things in these places. Antiquing is big in Maine. I'm not a buyer, but I've always enjoyed looking and exploring. I love the history. I would accept any job at all that allows me to work at Pineland. Both my grandmother and my mother used to work there... of course, long before it was as illustrious as it is now. It used to be a care facility for the mentally handicapped, was idle and abandoned and neglected for years, and then was purchased in 2000 and completely recreated into the beautiful campus it is today. It's a mile away from my grandmother's house, where I grew up. I just want to wrap things up here in Arizona, and get the hell home. Like, now. Except that I want to finish my degree, and the kids are moving back to Arizona this spring, and it would probably take a lot to convince them to pack up again and move to Maine (though it was ranked as the third best state in the US in which to raise children), and I doubt Marie wants to go to college at the University of Maine at Orono. Even though it's a really great college. Plus, there's Calvin, who doesn't really want to live in Maine. But I do. And I don't think I'm ever going to get over it. Comments on this entry? Head on over to The Blog! |
