This weekend I went to a barbecue. (Where I’m from we call it a cook-out– just try it. It’s fun to say. Hey, we’re havin a cook-out…) At this cook-out I played volleyball in my bare feet on the grass. I climbed a tree and sat in it’s big, thick elbows. While I was up there I found a little friend named Colter. He was way better at climbing trees than me. He scaled way up to the top while I and some other friends sat in the leaves and talked about boys. I love doing that. I just have one boy– but I sure love talkin about him.
Today I rode my bike to McDonalds to get a refill on my Dr. Pepper. I wanted it so bad. Right wrist rests on right handle-bar. Right hand grips cup. Feet push pedals. Watch out for bumps. I was out on my bike anyway to deliver some cough drops to a sick friend that lives by a whole bunch of trees. I sure loved the ride. And that Dr. Pepper. The sun was setting all the way home. Orange and gold.
There is a man on my roof. His name is Nelson. I know because he came to the door before he climbed up there. He wanted me to know that it wasn’t him who broke the window on Saturday. It was the supplier. He also wanted me to open the basement door so he could plug some huge thing in. Nelson does lots of roofs. I asked him if he ever gets scared. He said yes, and I appreciate that. Right now he is also working on a hotel that is six stories tall. The roof is very steep and if he drops anything, it will land on a car going super fast below him on busy State Street. Our house isn’t bad, he says. That’s good. We need a new roof real bad. He drops stuff on our car too. Ken is mad. He wrote a mad e-mail to our land-lord which is why Nelson came to tell us it wasn’t him that broke the window. I had to walk right under him to get my bike, but he didn’t drop anything on me. Had to risk it anyway, for my Dr. Pepper of course.
I am really into berries these days. Strawberries dipped in SO much sugar. Blackberries and blueberries and raspberries. They take turns being on sale. I take turns buying them. Having them in the fridge feels like a luxury, an indulgence. It makes me feel very blessed and lucky and vivid.
People keep asking, how do you feel about moving soon?
They keep saying Wow, DC, and Ooooh, Texas.
I’m saying: not much.
Why haven’t I thought about it yet?
Soon I will be there and it will be my new home.
I will feel that Utah happened long long ago, and wonder how I got there so fast.
I just know it.
That always happens to me.