Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Plan B?

Jesse, Julie and Al got back late Sunday evening. Jess called me. He said everything went just great. The cemetery was rough on Julie because mom and dad lie right next to Eldin and Verna.

My cousin, Barry, told Jess I was thinking of moving up there. He said there was a house for sale next to him, in Stilson, that I could get for a song. My other cousin, Chris, said that no members of our side of the family are allowed in Stilson, Iowa. Everybody laughed hysterically.

So, living in town on very little acreage? Could still have a tomato orchard and, my newest vegetable garden invention, a "sweet corn shed".

There's a house in Burt that I could possibly get for what I might get when I sell my piano. Mom and dad are buried in the Burt cemetery. It's said that there are more people in the cemetery than live in Burt.

I could visit them everyday.

It's all so very scary and sad, but are they trying to tell me something? I ask them what I'm supposed to do every night when I'm sitting outside gazing at dying plants sipping on a Miller Highlife. And I listen. I listen intently.

Dad: What am I supposed to do?


artandsoul said...

Do you like the family you have in the area that are alive? Do you feel like a physical part of you is connected to that area? Do you have to sell your piano?

There are lots of questions, and I think gazing and sipping and listening all sound like a good way to hear the sounds of guidance.

switters said...

Relatives. I'm not really close with the ancient ones. My cousins are okay, though they tend to take after the other side of their family forbears.

My mom's cousin is the postmaster of Burt, and I like him very much, though I don't know him at all.

It's mostly the land that's calling. It's funny. I honestly think that my brothers and sister really want one of us to own Iowa land, be it only 1/2 of an acre. And I do too. Something about a circle being unbroken.

I'll write more about it as it unfolds.

artandsoul said...

I think you're right - it's in the land. I visited graves of my ancestors during the last few years and there is something fundamentally different about even that small plot of land.

We have a piano that is never played....wish I could sell mine for you and you could keep yours.

bright said...

Okay, do people in Iowa routinely say Uff da? Because I'm reading something from my mom's collection of stupid murder mysteries, and all these Iowans keep saying Uff da and I thought that was a Minnesota thing?

Isonomist said...

My BIL says it in Ohio. It's a Norwegian thing.

Swit, I think you should do what feels right in your heart. Maybe you just need time to be. Iowa is that kind of place. There will always be other times and choices should the day come. The only question is, who will be there with you, and how often? The dead are not enough.

tia said...

@Isonomist said "who will be there with you, and how often? The dead are not enough."

Sage words. I understand about the land calling you, but family's been calling you, too (sometimes even on the ACTUAL PHONE). Ohio has land and family you love. And it's not in Alabama. Sell your shit, pack the animals and go, my friend (or sell the animals and pack your shit -- whatevs). It's long past time.

Schmutzie said...

Not knowing your dad, I can only tell you how my dad would have answered that question: What do you want to do? At this point, that really is the question, innit?

artandsoul said...

And, Alabama isn't going anywhere. Trust me.

If you have to or want to you can always come back to the South and it will pretty much always be the same.

(I live here, I know this)