I’m getting ready to go off the grid and on my little retreat thingie.  I mean, I don’t want to be accessible to anyone.  Life has been weird lately, confusing and lonely.  Do I really think spending time in the middle of Kansas is going to help?  Why am I going again?

Brenda sent a package of goodies to cheer me.  This cracked me up and will come in handy on the drive…

But this pin was my favorite thing and I stuck it right below the Smile God loves you clip.

I’m sure I’ll glance up at it lots over the trip and think “and someone at Iowa State loves me too!”  I don’t know what I would’ve done without her and Michele to talk to these past couple of weeks.  Oh my gosh, I’m scared to go.  Wish me luck.

All summer long I was puzzled (obsessed) with a house on the main drag through town.  It began one day in June when a huge painted “Obama for President” sign showed up in the front yard.  I thought it was funny… cartoonish… impressive (you know what they say about the size of a man’s thumb).

Almost every day I passed the sign when suddenly, one afternoon THIS was in its place!:

I barely had time to get over the unexplained switch when a few days later the sign was back to Obama.

What the heck was going on? Were they a husband and wife who disagreed, yet graciously took turns with their yard support? Who were they commissioning to paint these things? Why is Barack’s thumb so much bigger than John’s? (Okay we know the answer to that one).

By the end of July they were changing the sign once a day, sometimes twice!  Then one or the other would be up for an entire week.  The question of “Why the irrational changing of the candidates” was all I could talk about so Andrea and a friend came home one day after stopping at the house to ask.  You want the long, drawn out explanation they brought back to me? “He’s undecided.”

Well why was he going to so much effort to announce that?  Did he do the paintings?  Is there any rhyme or reason to how long each sign stays up?  I clearly was going to have to talk to the guy myself.

Fast forward to today.  As I drove by and cursed the wretched sign I noticed something.  PEEK-A-BOO from Sarah Palin!:

Oh my God, today’s the day.  I can stand the mystery not one minute longer.  As luck would have it there was a guy out smoking on the porch.

“Is this your house?”

“Yes.”

“Can I take a picture of your sign?”

“Sure.”

“You know, I’ve been watching these signs all summer.  They’ve kind of driven me crazy.”

He laughed.  And then I got some details.  His brother painted the signs and changes them out to give all the old men at the Corner Cafe something to talk about.  (And it’s worked, too, according to his Corner Cafe Intelligence).  There’s been no set time frame for each candidate’s sign, he changes them at whim, although when their Republican parents came to visit he left McCain out the entire time.  (Isn’t that a sweet son)?

They really don’t know who they’re going to vote for.  The guy I talked to said his idea was to put candidate pictures on a weather vane so it would turn around with the wind.  And then I got to go in the garage and see the as yet unveiled to the public peek-a-boo Biden:

I hated to leave.  I told him I couldn’t wait to see who was up on election day but he said it’d be down by then.  They’re having a big Halloween party and will be decorating for that.  Crushed I said “just put a witch’s hat on Palin or something!” and he paused, “that’s actually a good idea. Very fitting.”  My intent wasn’t to insult to the governor of Alaska, but so be it.  I just don’t want the saga to end.

It’s a bird… it’s a plane…

It’s Segway Guy!  Yesterday it was raining and he was doing the Mary Poppins thing but I didn’t take pictures.

He chained his ride to the bike rack:

Then headed to class with it sitting there like a souped-up vacuum cleaner:

And I wanted to holler after him, “Segway Guy!  Is the world gonna be incinerated?”  He would calm me, “No.  It’s the same as it’s always been:  on the brink.  With Good fighting Evil.”

Thanks Segway Guy!

Friday I felt insightful and said, “You know, if church was just held in a movie theater it’d be easier for me to go.  Movie theaters are fun and casual.  It’s the hard pew, harsh light, dry mouth in the early morning thing I haven’t been dealing with well in recent years.  I just need to be able to have a discreet cup of caffeine to nurse on.”

Saturday I saw a sign advertising a church that holds services in a local theater.

WOW.

That wasn’t insight, that was a revelation!

I went Sunday and loved it.  I was too chicken to take a drink but saw those who did, so from now on?  No more yawning all through church for me anymore!

It’s almost bizarre, that in looking back, the times my life bumps into trauma almost always come nipping at the heels of a particularly happy time.  “I thought I was happy.  I thought we were happy.  Not just coasting or making it work but, happy.”

In the midwest I’m used to autumn acting as buffer between the brightest and darkest seasons.  Where was my fall?  I guess it was falling all around and I was blinded by my sun?  I don’t know.  I need some time to quiet my brain and I learned about a place I’m hoping will help the process (or, as Michele says: “at the very least come home with some hilarious stories for me”)… I’m going on a spiritual retreat.

It’ll take me about 3 hours to get to the town nearest the retreat center.  The directions from there make me laugh and, with the hand-drawn map, fill an entire printed page.

Excerpts:

“There is a hill and the road curves to the right.  Make a left turn about in the middle of the curve.  Watch the solid yellow line down the center of the road and where it ends in the curve, there’s the left turn.  There’s a white house with brown shutters on the SE corner of the corner and a pole barn on the SW side.”

and

“There is a “T” at the cemetery.  Turn right.  Watch for deer!”

and

“There is another bridge about the size of the turnpike bridge just beyond this street sign (there are several smaller bridges before the bigger one near the center).  There is a set of cattle pens just before the gravel road on the left.  If you get to the gravel road you’ve gone too far.”

A woman could lose herself.  Here’s hoping.

Rodney’s parents are in town and after going out to dinner they wanted to hit the boats.  Gambling is something we haven’t done in years - not because we don’t love it, but because we do.  Too much.  There used to be a framed picture of us in the hall at Harrah’s from one of Rodney’s big wins - him holding a cardboard check and me with hair way too blonde and shorts way too short.  I looked for it but it’s long gone.

We left mom & dad at the video poker machines to go play my game: Blackjack.

I was up, playing my standard slow, slow, cautious game when two women joined the table. They were boisterous birthday girls offering to show everyone their I.D’s to prove it was really their birthday and they weren’t just saying it.  One was 34, the other 39 and they wanted to prove that, too, because could we believe they were that old?  I started to lean in to Rodney but he said in my ear before I could ask:  Yes, you look younger than both of them.  Prettier, too.

That man always knows just what to say to his 40-year old wife.

1. Andrea told me to listen to the song her boyfriend sent her that she now uses for her ringtone when he calls.  Get this: It’s the Mary Tyler Moore theme song.  When he calls I now picture them dancing the first dance at their wedding to MTM reruns.
2. Every morning when I take Andrea to school (she’s got her license but no car) I’ve been seeing a group of turkeys on one of the lawns.  Not dumb kids - actual turkeys.  They’re always gobblin around in the same southwest corner of the schoolgrounds - like a clique.  They’re high school turkeys.
3. There’s this kid who drives a Segway to and from school that we pass on the way.  When it rains he holds up an umbrella with one hand and looks just like Mary Poppins.