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I couldn’t get him to respond, so I don’t even know if he had a nice day.  I hope so.  He needs more nice days in his life.  He was going to Cattleman’s for dinner.  That was his plan.  After going back and forth for a long time, I actually decided to go with him.  I am also trying to get out of my own way, but since I never could reach him I still don’t know what’s going on.  

Brent came to hang out between photo shoots during the day.  It’s a stark contrast.  Brent is easy to be around.  There isn’t some deeper meaning to it; he brought some dinner with him, ate it, and then took a nap in the library for an hour before leaving.  It’s how I expect family to be.  Both him and Brad are welcome in my house in that exact way, as if they are supposed to be there.  And it is how I expect to be in there houses.  But sometimes Brad makes it awkward with guilt trips and weird tours of things he is doing.  And it all just reminds me of how Dad used his children as substitutes for friends.  Have friends as friends.  Family should be able to relax around you.

I’m just frustrated because Brad is genuinely fun to be around, but it’s hard to get to that point when everything is so dramatic.  I wish he could just calm down, then maybe it would make sense to stop by and hang out for an afternoon.  Regardless, I hope he had a pleasant day.  Happy 44th to him!

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Deer, Turkey, Toads

This was a surprisingly good and productive day.  Brent & I went to Glencoe to do a final cleanup of trash & get the propane tank listed and picked up.  The only thing left to do out there is the owner of the mobile home to come out and get it, but everything we were going to do is done (unless the mobile home pickup results in a mess, which we may need to hire someone to cleanup).  Everything takes so long.  On the way to the recycling center, there were deer and turkeys in the Johnson’s yard across the creek.  Both are common, but not usually at the same time.

Brent is fun to hang out when he’s not focused on trying to get out of the task.  He has relaxed since buying his house and moving.  When we couldn’t get find a place to take a refrigerator, we took it to Brad’s and to my surprise Brent went in and visited with Brad, AJ, & Kenzie.  They are remodeling at Brad’s and he is not talking about moving any longer.  I don’t agree, but it’s not my house and not my life.  It was actually a pretty good visit in spite of the smell of smoke.  Brad says he quit again.  I’m glad to hear it.  I would love if he started taking care of himself more!!

It was a long day, and I didn’t get home until 8, so I only did a 25 minute walk.  I got in a lot of movement throughout the day, so I still feel pretty good about it.  The park was full of toads and there were teenagers hanging out on the playground.  That made me feel good actually; I worry about young people not spending enough time just still being kids.  I got in my steps, avoiding stepping on toads, and got back home.  I’m so tired now, but I have a washer & dryer now and I put a load of laundry in for the first time and so I almost feel like this is where my time in Guthrie starts.  I don’t have anything to pull me away to do other tasks.  

[Walk #335, 1.15 miles]

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Strickland Park

Well, today did not go as planned.  It never does!  I went to Glencoe to see if the Brent & the guys he hired had gotten all of the trash, and no.  They did not.  On the way, I got a text from Sonja asking about when the mobile home would be gone and the area cleaned up. 

Her patience is almost certainly wearing thin, and I don’t understand why I am the only one who can deal with this issue.  I called Brent & he contacted the buyer of the mobile home, but I told him he and I had to return next week to get it done.  So, hopefully we can finish.  He wants me to transport OPEN cans of paint in my car because his truck is too precious.  Then rent a trailer.  It’s ridiculous that we are still having these fights.

I needed to decompress, so Justin and I went shopping at Five Below and Dollar Tree, followed by a walk at Strickland Park.  Since I was in Stillwater, I thought it would be nice as I said yesterday, to go walk somewhere in the area.  And it was.  There’s a lot of fun stuff at Strickland, and the trail is walkable, even though the playground dominates the space.  During school hours on a weekday was a great time to go get in my steps.  It made me want to walk all the area parks.  Maybe I will make a checklist and just visit them all!

I talked to Conner on the phone on my way home.  He’s hoping to get out of Stillwater at some point.  I think it is a good idea if that’s what he wants to do!  There’s a world out there and there is no reason to not get out and just enjoy life.  I was so happy to hear his mom had come by to have lunch and do some painting.  It’s been rocky, but I’m glad to see things are in such a good place with her.  Now, if we can just get his dad there as well!

Even with the stress that lingers from Glencoe, I felt pretty good today.  The walk was nice, the pollen was a little lower, the temperature wasn’t so bad.  

[Walk #328, 1.12 miles]

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Campsis radicans

That house still haunts me;
the absences I feel are extreme.
Brad has kept the trumpet vines,
electric and intense like himself.
He pulled the irises that were once
lining the paths and taking breath
away from visitors as they passed.
The enormous black-purple blooms,
now towering only in our memory.
He inherited too much and not enough,
spending time and money adjusting,
spreading out and stamping his energy
onto the places that had been our center.
He’s added alcohol to the room where
my grandma’s last moments began,
highlighting the permanence of it all.
Where there was once an annual
display of daisies and cleomes,
a chainlink box sits, overgrown with
those intense trumpet vines.
The garden is all wild and unkempt,
like he’s trying to preserve something
that cannot be contained or suppressed.
Life spills out from our dark spots.
The house was full of undue pressures,
now settled into a gritty beauty.
The roots will continue to grow,
the trumpet vines will spread,
and one day my nephew’s children
will wipe tears from their eyes when
they visit a house that meant so much.
And they’ll talk about the intensity
and how much they’d give to have it back.

Notes

Written 20 February 2020 in Payne County, Oklahoma.

Brian Fuchs, “Campsis radicans” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)

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Stillwater, Oklahoma

4. PROMISES

I’ve seen life’s simplicity and it made me smile.
I’ve watched the horses in their fields on the town’s edge,
visited cattle lounging in shade in July.
I’ve waved at the farmers on their tractors, thanked them.
I’ve laughed at the new goats frolicking and climbing.

I’ve seen your fuchsia redbuds in bloom, buds bursting.
I’ve seen joyful petals pushing out of branches,
the promise of Spring and potential of April.
I’ve chased butterflies, paused to follow scissortails,
I’ve danced with grackles with their long velvet feathers.

I’ve felt the sun on my back, warm and oppressive.
I’ve wondered in late Summer if the heat would leave,
felt the scorched grass and falling leaves of September.
I’ve found joy in the heat, remembering Autumn.
I’ve daydreamed about the promise and chill it brings.

Notes

Written 19 February 2020

Brian Fuchs, “Stillwater, Oklahoma” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)

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Stillwater, Oklahoma

2. THE WEATHER

I have stood under skies full of rain.
I have been a scared child, comforted
by the clouds which might burst into storms,
and by hail, the chaos of thunder.
I have seen the bright sun in the sky,
oddly close, maybe more than before,
close enough to reach up, touch its rays
if not for exhaustion from the heat.
Everything start to wilt on those days,
our spirits, slumped lilies still standing,
thinking back on Easter’s soft beauty.

Notes

Written 19 February 2020

Brian Fuchs, “Stillwater, Oklahoma” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)

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Stillwater, Oklahoma

1. HEARTBEAT

“a vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid out by the hand of taste… to rival the most ornamented scenery of Europe.” — Washington Irving

I’ve felt your beating heart;
thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…
thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…
Old folks still make weekly
pilgrimages to pray,
to seek God and solace.
Many hours of my youth
I spent rubbing the hands
of my grandma, wrinkled
and loose-skinned like mine now,
while the congregation
sang hymns from “the blue book,”
while old family friends
talked about love, dryly
reciting the red words.
Three times or more a week,
we’d gather to worship.
Thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…
I have felt the comfort
of belonging there, fell
for empty dogma long
before my welcome stopped.

Notes

Written 19 February 2020

Brian Fuchs, “Stillwater, Oklahoma” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)