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Home Again
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Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will -- whatever we may think. |
Sunday, August 22, 1999
One year ago: Living Traditions
Two years ago: The Future Behind Us
Jack and I slept in the queen-size bed in K--- and P--'s motor home. The wind rocked it during the night, as if we were on a boat! When we got up, we took our hosts out to breakfast, checking along the way to see if the recommended transmission shops were open -- they weren't!
Jack's father arrived from Klickitat County shortly after we returned from breakfast. Jack, Jack's father, and K---- all took charge of moving my car from the truckstop, though they weren't sure if it would drive at all, or if they'd have to use a tow rope. I felt slightly irresponsible, leaving it all up to them, but I was glad for their help on the whole.
Jack's father then drove us back down to the Klickitat river, via Yakima and Goldendale. The one bright spot in this car mess: driving during the day meant Jack got to stop at the "Yakimart," the convenience store with smoke shop attached on the Yakima nation property. He bought a bunch of cigars at very good prices, which pleased him a lot. I'm not thrilled about his cigar smoking, but I was glad to see him so happy! He rarely buys expensive cigars -- they aren't worth the money to him, after all the taxes are piled on.
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Saturday afternoon, Jack was underneath his old motorhome, taking out the parts that needed replacing. He took them with him to the Dalles across the Columbia in Oregon, taking his mother and daughter along. He wanted to be sure he was buying exactly the parts he needed, since it's a long drive to the store when you are out on the Klickitat river. He also wanted to get daughter H---- some school clothes.
During this excursion, and the rest of the time working on the motor home, I reclined on the couch and read Stock Market Logic, a book of articles about investing that Chip had recommended to me.
Jack was up early on Sunday morning, and the motorhome was successfully repaired! We'd be able to get home, after all.
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We took off with just a few gallons in the gas tank. Unfortunately, the station in the nearest town was closed! I was anxious about us making the next town, but Jack didn't seem worried. We stopped at a nearby viewpoint for a picnic lunch, but yellow jackets are so plentiful this year in the Columbia Gorge that we retreated hurriedly back to the motor home and ate inside. Jack continued reading from The Hobbit; he was bound and determined to finish it before he dropped H--- off, back at her mother's home.
We drove through the afternoon, Jack much concerned about gas mileage (legitimately -- the motor home sucks gas) and annoying people on the road. This was more of a problem than usual, since he was driving an unfamiliar vehicle, and our passing power wasn't that great.
We stopped at the outlet stores in Centralia, to do more school-clothes shopping for H----. Jack does get frustrated shopping with her, though! She either can't make up her mind, or sees nothing that suits her at all. This is a problem when there is only limited time for him to shop with her, and he wants to make sure she has suitable shoes and a warm coat! We did make some successful purchases, after some nagging, griping, and passive resistance (who did which is an exercise for the reader).
We had a fast-food dinner, and continued reading the Hobbit, despite H---'s concern about being embarrassed. We did get it finished. I hope the reading aloud thing has done some good this summer. How can people survive without reading? What do they think about? It seems like an impoverished menta life, to me.
We took the back roads around Olympia, and left H---- at her home. A sad parting for Jack! He was glad H--- could make such a long visit this summer, and she got to do a lot of fun activities at the YMCA teen day camp. I know he'll miss having her around.
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The trip was a long drive, with our various stops along the way. As we were heading towards Seattle, Jack said, "Sorry you had a bad weekend." "But I didn't!" I told him, though I'm not happy about my car getting messed up. The rest went about how I expected; the purpose of the trip was to get the motor home running. Had I been acting as if I were annoyed or put out? "No, but then you almost never do!" and Jack reached across the extra-wide motor home to squeeze my hand. (One of the disadvantages of the motor home -- I like it when Jack holds my hand or puts his hand on my shoulder or the top of my head, while he's driving, and that can't happen in the motor home!)
When we got to Seattle, Jack parked and helped me in with my stuff (including stuff that had been in the back of my car, despite my cleaning efforts -- in case I never get the car back again!), leaving the engine running! "What, not even a bio break?" said I, but he still had a long drive ahead of him, up to Bellingham. I gave him a hug and kiss goodbye. I said, "Do you know what I'm really craving? A quiet weekend alone together, just the two of us." It's been quite a while since we had that! But Jack said what I knew already, that it's hard to tell when we'll be able to arrange that. His older daughter is back in juvenile detention in Bellingham, and will be released to him in the next few days. If she stays around, I don't know if he'll be taking her down to his ex-wife's any time soon.
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