I sort of have hot water, though only in my shower. The water stays hot for about a minute and then goes cold, which is the same thing it was doing in the beginning and the reason they shut off the hot water in the first place. It’s better than nothing at all, but I have to admit that as soon as I felt the luxuriously warm water begin to cool, I almost broke down and cried.
Which is what I’ve felt like doing several times in the last twenty-four hours. It’s not the work. I’ve acclimated to the long, laborious hours and actually enjoyed the four hours I spent fertilizing eighty saplings today (as well as watering the onions and strawberries and packing peaches for the farmers’ market tomorrow). I think it’s mainly the isolation I feel here that has suddenly and viciously made me homesick. I’ve realized in these past two weeks just how essential community is to one’s mental and emotional wellbeing. While I may prefer the quiet corner in a room, I’d like to not be the only occupant of said room. That corner in a silent, empty room is bitterly lonely. I thought that this would be the perfect chance to finish the novel I’ve been attempting to write since April, but the constant, absolute silence seems to deafen my imagination. I thought my books would be a comfort, and they are, but they would be so much more so if there were someone here with me to whom I could say, “Hey, listen to this…”
In an attempt at self-preservation, I bought an orchid today. The Phalaenopsis orchid is my favorite flower: the deceptively fragile appearance, the vulnerability of its exposed roots. I have two at home—Genevieve and Charlie Brown (a precocious almost-four-year-old named the latter)—but was unable to bring them with me. I realize that it might sound a little batty that I purchased a flower to talk to, but better a flower than a piece of furniture, aye? Now if I started addressing my rocking chair, that would be cause for concern. As it is, I think Hermione will make a splendid companion.
As far as human companions go, I met up with Sally—one of the older ladies I met at church—tonight at the ice cream social. The ice cream social wasn’t quite what I’d envisioned, but it was enjoyable and did give me a chance just to be in the presence of others. I have to say, I never thought I would relish that.
woman! you need to get out there and talk to people! I know you can do it, swap some numbers at one of these farmers markets! anyways i love you and miss you and i wish i was there with you cause it sounds like a BLAST! :D
ReplyDelete~rissa~
Any weekend you want to come to Boston you are more than welcome!! I would come visit you, but I am lacking a car. However, I have a roommate from Maine, and she wants to take me up there and show me around. So I will let you know if I venture up towards you.
ReplyDeleteCarissa Marie, I wish you were here, too! Ah! I have so many people I would love to share this experience with. Love and miss you.
ReplyDeleteEmily, that sounds like a great idea! Do you have my phone number, so you can get in touch if you come up this way? I will definitely take you up on your offer. Maybe sometime in mid- to late-September?
I have a number for you, but to make sure it is correct can you email me your number? davidsonemi@gmail.com Anytime you want to head this way just let me know. I work some on the weekends, but I would love to have you visit! And I will be sure to let you know if I head north.
ReplyDelete