 |
| This was taken down by the river at sunset (duh and duh.) I've been reading up on camera settings and experimenting. |
On December 26th, it will be 25 years since Ma, T.A. and me packed up our stuff and moved to The Holler.
And it still feels like I got sucked in to a parallel universe.
Anywho...
Things have been quiet in Frog Pond Holler. The last of the hikers have shuffled past the house, dragging their packs behind them. The number of tourists has dwindled. You can actually get in and out of the Dolla' Store in less than an hour and the post office doesn't smell like pit funk.
We've had our first snow of the year. It wasn't huge, but it was pretty to look at. I have to admit, it was nice to gaze out over the frozen tundra knowing I didn't have to bundle up and go out in it. I could just put on a pot of coffee and lay back down until it got done.
I spent the better part of last year asleep when everyone else was awake. It didn't matter what sleep promising concoction I ingested, I was wide awake until the sun came up. Once day broke, I'd drift off to never never land. I was finally able to convince Dr. Dingaling down at the HeeHaw clinic that I wasn't trying to get narcotics. He gave me a prescription for an antidepressant known for it's sleep inducing qualities.
Now that I've been back in the land of the living for some months, I've been trying to figure out my life. I mean, I'm still waiting for my disability hearing. It will likely be the end of next year. In the meantime, TA is working nearly 60 hours a week between two jobs and paying all the bills.
I have so much mama guilt.
I've tried different things to make some extra money. I did surveys for a while and they're legit, but you have to fill out a crap ton of them to get a $25 gift card. I tried going back to the freelance writing, but the last two posts I wrote, for an immigration lawyer, were declined. His reason was that they weren't legally accurate, but I know they were. He declined every post that was written for him with the same reason. That wasn't the only thing that ticked me off, it was just the final straw.
Also? I really hate writing those articles.
I figure I've spent my life doing crap I hate. It's time to get back to what I want to do. So, when T.A. gets paid and there's a little spare gas in Jolene, I grab my camera and ride around the backroads, listening to classic rock and looking for pictures to take.
Hopefully T.A. will be able to get her car fixed after the first of the year, then Jolene will be mine again.
I miss my truck.
And someday I'll have my disability approval and I'll be able to buy gas on occasion.
It's not a bad life.
Ya'll take care. We'll talk again soon.
Later Taters!!