Hello, Goodbye!

The cold air of St. Louis welcomed me through the gap between the airplane and the jet bridge into the airport.

My new seatmate friend walked with me until our paths diverged at the car rental shuttle door. "I'm going this way," I announced.

From the airport to the rental to Della's to pick up my coat-that-wasn't-there, it was a flurry of activity until I landed at Ria's house.

"Hey, you know my long green coat? The wool one?"

Ria nodded.

"I think it's here," I said.

We looked for awhile, but it didn't show up. Maybe it was still in her boyfriend's car. I had it when we drove to the airport at Thanksgiving. It would show up.

"Do you need a coat? I have an extra," she offered.

"I'm good," I said, shrugging off my old ski jacket that was also stored at Della's house. The other coat I had stored there was an old antique! hippie coat given to me by a good friend. It fits, but if I lose a few more pounds, it will fit better. I'm still waiting for the concert to wear it to.

Ria pointed to her new decorations as we toured her house, which was now decorated for Valentine’s Day. I loved how she kept the decorations fresh, changing with the seasons. Stepping through the door at the end of the hall, we entered the computer room where a soft pink glow bathed her desk as her new neon sign hung above the hard-drive tower.

“I’m starving,” I announced. “All I had was an apple at the airport this morning.”

“Want to go get something to eat?” Ria asked, suggesting we visit her work.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I want to go meet your coworkers.”

We ended up at her work and ordered iced teas, pretzel bites, and toasted raviolis. When the food arrived, it was more than I’d expected. We still had to meet her boyfriend for dinner, so I ate slowly and as minimally as possible. But it was soooooooooo good!

“This is the best queso,” Ria commented. “I love our queso.”

She introduced me to some of her coworkers and the BossLady.

“Your daughter is a good worker,” BossLady complimented.

“Oh, I know!” I gushed. “I’ve watched her work while I eat. She knows the repeat customer’s names and their orders.”

“Mom!” Ria exclaimed, blushing.

“Yes, I’ve seen that,” her boss agreed.

Next, we stopped at the Nutrition Stop, my favorite Missouri vitamin store.

“What? Why? What do you need in here?” Ria asked as I pulled into the parking lot.

“Vitamins,” I responded. “I’m almost out, and I need to get some more. This place carries the wholesome stuff.”

“Look at that,” Ria said, pointing to the cute shop right next door. We stopped in there first, and Ria bought me some earrings. The orange sparkles complemented my orange sweater.

From there, we headed down to the Old Spaghetti Factory in Chesterfield for a taste-trip down memory lane. It had been years since I’ve had their garlic butter on bread. It was time to go back.

We met her boyfriend, MM, there. It had been a long day at the office, so we ate dinner and caught up on things. We didn’t spend too much time past dinner on chit chat. He had to work again the next day, and so did Ria.

We parted company, and I returned to Della’s house where we shared some Bordeaux and caught up on our lives.

“Where are you living now?” she asked.

“Havasu…for now,” I replied.

She updated me on the positive changes at Bonnidell’s Ice Cream Shop, a business she began in 2007 with a little more than a vision to go on. She’s since turned it into a thriving business.

Thursday.

I woke slowly at first, wondering what to do about the day. I had a ukulele lesson in the afternoon and a concert that evening. Should I grade papers during the morning? Maybe sit at the St. Louis Bread Co. (i.e. Panera for the rest of the world) all morning?

Flipping on my phone, I checked my messages and briefly scanned my emails and notifications. Duolingo wanted me to play. I’d missed practice with my Perfect Ear app. Photos had a new stylized photo to show me. And, Realtor wanted me to look at a price drop in Truth or Consequences. I selected the Realtor app.

Five minutes later, I found myself down the rabbit hole, flying across the mapped country looking for cheap houses. The financial gal told me that my resort job didn’t qualify since I hadn’t been in the position for longer than six months. “It might qualify if the underwriter will consider the overall industry since you had the hotel job before this one,” she said. I held my hope on that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to afford anything over $56- to $58- thousand based on my university pay. I was an adjunct, the lowliest of the low, working long hours teaching classes the full-time professors rejected. Living on minimum wage and minimal benefits. Still, I looked at the houses.

What was I doing? The house that most drew my attention these days was about three or four hours away. Why didn’t I just reschedule the ukulele lesson and buzz on out to look at the house? That way, I could settle my mind once and for all about the round brick house on a little over an acre of good soil. They wanted $80 thousand, but maybe there would be a way to do it. Sometimes faith and prayer work to bring about results. That’s all I had to go on these days.

I hopped out of bed, said a hasty goodbye, and ske-daddled out the door, heading westward on the open road in a fast Corolla. For a four-cylinder, I was surprised at the pony in this thing. The acceleration in this ’22 Corolla felt much stronger than my ’02 Xterra. With the Corolla having only 70-something-thousand miles on it, the engine still felt tight, unlike my 285-thousand mile Xterra with the leaking rear main seal. With the 30-something miles per gallon in the Corolla, I drove that thing over the prairies and through the woods, up and over hills, enjoying back country Missouri hills.

I love to drive. I should have been a truck driver.

Despite going to look at a possible home—a landing spot for me and my rock collection!—a general sense of unease began to creep over me as I headed north and the sun no longer warmed my shoulder and arm through the window. I turned up the heat and drove on.

What was I doing? I thought back to what Lynette always said, “Where God guides, He provides. Where He don’t, He won’t.” This whole house thing—the financing AND trying to get a copy of the HOA bylaws to see if chickens and gardens are allowed on the property—shouldn’t be so difficult. If the Lord wants me at that house, wouldn’t it all come together a little easier? Even the paperwork about it being an “unconventional home” drew roadblocks. Apparently, there were no comparable properties (round earth homes) anywhere in the region. In reality, it wasn’t much of an earth home as not even a quarter of the house was buried into the hill. But…whatevs! Everything seemed difficult. And, I didn’t even know if I would get the financing. The money gal at the bank told me to look for houses that are $58,000 or less.

I’d gawked at this home countless times on Realtor.com. Going to see this house felt more like going to a concert to see a rock star or hear a song than it did about actually getting it for myself.

The further north I drove, the less I felt the house was for me.

About an hour from the home, I turned around.

I did have a concert to go to in the city, and if I got back early, I could stop by Ria’s house on the way into town. But—first!—a stop at Ozarkland for a refrigerator magnet. Steve said he would help me install the Godspeed’s solar panels if I’d bring him a refrigerator magnet from St. Louis. And what better place to pick up a refrigerator magnet than Ozarkland, the premier Ozark souvenir destination!

About a half hour out from St. Charles, I reached for the phone to dial Ria’s number. As I fumbled with the phone, she called me. “Mom, can you stop by?”

“I sure can,” I said.

She’d been showing me this show she liked: Ted Lasso on Apple TV. We watched an episode, and she helped me with my make-up and hair.

The bands playing combined efforts on a song that really spoke to me this last winter. I wrote a letter to tell them how much the particular song meant and how I would be at their St. Louis show. In the letter I even mentioned how I haven’t written a letter like this since the letter I penned in schoolgirl cursive to Shaun Cassidy in 1976. Since I hadn’t heard anything back, I figured the email probably went to a spam box.

At the concert venue, I looked for my former friends before finding a spot in front of the sound booth on the first row. These two women were talking, and they kept spreading out on the rail, pushing me toward the young couple on the other side of me.

“Sorry, we’ve got friends coming,” the blond short-hair said.

“They should be here already to get a good spot,” I commented. “This band is so good, and Holly Bowling is opening up for them.”

One of their friends showed up, and three of them started talking about how good it was to get to concerts “now that the pandemic is over.” Then they all talked about their experiences with covid. The short-hair got covid from some “super spreader” who showed up sneezing and coughing and without a mask to some event. They all chortled over this “super spreader.”

“Did any of y’all take ivermectin?” I butted in.

“No,” the short-hair said, turning her back to me.

In a voice loud enough to plunk into their conversation, I said, “Everyone I knew who thought they had it and took ivermectin, got better quicker than the others who didn’t take it.”

Short-hair snorted at me and moved closer in toward her friends.

At least now I had some space at the rail as the lights began to dim and Holly came onto the stage. She is the intersection between Mozart and the Grateful Dead. If this was a Venn Diagram, Holly Bowling would be in the intersection.

About 15 minutes into the show, short hair started to sniffle. I could sense her energy as she stifled a cough and then sneezed twice.

“Are you a super spreader?” I asked rather loudly. “Where is your mask?”

“Oh, no!” she said, “It’s not that…”

“I think you’re a super spreader!” I loudly reiterated and walked away. I wanted to find a different spot any way, somewhere to get a different angle on my pictures.

At the break between Holly and Greensky Bluegrass, I found some of my former concert buddies and stopped to talk with them for a bit. I would have liked to talk longer, but the lights dimmed as the musicians took their places.

The music started hot and stayed hot. It had been a long time since I’ve heard professional musicians playing at the top of their game. Greensky didn’t disappoint.

And then, almost at the end of the first set, I heard the familiar notes… The band was about to play the song. When “Last Winter in the Copper Country” started, I felt blessed. Maybe they did read the note. Or maybe the song was already planned. Whatevs. With rapt attention, I listened hard. Not only did they play the song, but the jam in the middle as a particularly extended jam, so the song seemed to go on forever. Forevs. In addition, the lighting crew was thematically spot-on with the lighting. For a song that says, "It ain't the cold that gets you, even wind is creeping in," the snow effect and dark lighting worked.

Fully satisfied with the show, wishing I was younger and my knees didn't hurt so much from dancing and quite exhausted, I left the venue after the first set and drove back to St. Charles.

Friday.

The next morning—Friday morning for those keeping track—Della and I rushed to the Waffle House for breakfast. When we got back, Jennifer brought Moose (one of Buena’s puppies) over to play. The puppies were all two years old now. Where does the time go?

When I went upstairs to get my phone, I saw an email notification to one of the requests I’d put in a day or so earlier. I’d asked about access to the St. Louis buyers warehouse even if I didn’t have my Utah business paperwork with me. The warehouse gave me the green light, so I shifted gears and decided to go get some arrowheads. My ukulele lesson wasn’t until one in the afternoon, so I’d have plenty of time to get there and back.

Or so I thought…

The drive actually took about an hour longer than I’d remembered, but I enjoyed the drive and made it to the ukulele lesson where my friend and I caught up on music happenings around town. Then, we dug into firsts, fourths, and fifths, and I recognized my practice is sorely lacking in that area. This meant the lesson was extremely productive as Rick unlocked some of the areas where I need to direct my musical studies.

After the lesson, I drove straight to Ria’s house where I picked her up so we could go shopping. I have a great coleslaw recipe from southern Utah, and I really wanted to share it with her. At the store, we picked up all the key ingredients.

At her house, we worked together on dinner. Her boyfriend joined us in the kitchen as we prepared the meal: sausage, potatoes, salad, green beans, and the slaw. Larry, Ria’s father and my ex-husband, showed up, and we engaged in lively conversation while waiting for the sausage and potatoes to come out of the oven.

After dinner, we watched a show Ria wanted us to see. At ten o’clock we parted company as each of us had morning plans.

Saturday.

I slept hard that night, completely worn out from the past several days. Still, I roused myself in the morning, made my way to the car rental place and rode the shuttle back to the airport.

After a little bit of sleep after Kansas and eastern Colorado, I studied the maps and the ground geography the rest of the way into Vegas.

It was good to get out of the airport and back in my old Xterra that struggles at speeds above 65. The engine is old. The rear main seal needs replacing. The clutch probably needs to be replaced soon, as well. As we rumbled toward Searchlight, Nevada, I paused to take a break and rumble out onto the desert, breathing the air and looking at rocks and Joshua trees.

Bonus Trip Pics

Included in this collection:

• on the bus

• reflections at the Las Vegas airport

• Holly Bowling

• demonic social conditioning

• The Pageant

• I used to think factories made clouds

• so tired that I'm willing to drink high fructose corn syrup to stay awake

• Colorado!

• Joshua Trees

• maybe I should buy this Bronco! it has plenty of space for car camping. i wonder what kind of gas mileage it gets. the undercarriage looks good. i want to drive it.