Home Brew

I feel my most notable moments of bliss and freedom when walking in the morning. This morning's walk was interrupted by the rare sighting of actual people here in the neighborhood. They were congregating about in the ritual that seems to excite the most fevered reactions possible on a Saturday morning in these parts. The Garage Sale. Happening upon it, I didn't dare stop with the dogs in tow. They cared nothing for the large orange treasures that were beckoning from my peripheral vision. It seems they care about nothing except the random creature that scurries through the woods, or the teasing squirrels who have figured out the ratio of leash length to linear feet between themselves and my poor tethered creatures.

My time in proximity of this garage sale was ample enough to allow me to hear a rummager pick up one of the orange beauties and ask "What IS this?" It was as large as her entire torso. I knew I would be returning with cash in hand.

Score. $7. We paid full price; there was no haggling. There was a funky matching bowl (equally orangalicious) that now holds my wayward CDs. What was the orange beauty? An ashtray that is grand enough to have accommodated all the smokers in a small country. What is it now? That remains to be determined.

Building a bridge to this new life has been arduous. In some quick moments, and more lasting states, there is the emergence of "home". That's what the orange beauty became today.

The Sexy Engineer made beer a couple of weeks ago, and tonight we bottled it. Without question, he scampered off with me this morning to acquire orange things urgently from a driveway. The alarm went off tonight at the gallery (eek at 11pm) and he drove 45 minutes (one-way) with me to make sure everything was okay (it was). He smiles at me every morning as soon as he opens his eyes. I have the space and time here to think and to feel wonder again. Who knows how the beer will turn out, but this home brew we're working on is delicious.