Eh? What was that? On the Toad?

We are never quite the same from breath to breath.  Always in motion, always observing, always learning something new, we peregrinate through life. In my case, that means being on the road – or on the toad – a lot.

I have a hard time remembering everywhere I’ve lived. My parents moved often. It seems to have created a sense of adventure in me since I’ve moved often. Whether across the town, across the state, across the nation, or across an ocean, I’ve either got a serious case of wanderlust or I’m part gypsy.

Along the way I lost almost all my beloved books.  If only the ones I miss the most came in e-book editions!

I left Alaska behind the last time I made a big move. I’ve missed it ever since.  Alaska is, to date, my greatest adventure and my deepest love. My soul lives there. Nothing will ever compare to the Northern Lights, ice fog at -55F, alpenglow on the Chugach range, and the overnight change in the air that told you winter was on the way.

I’ve been in Massachusetts for eighteen of the longest years of my life.  It has been the greatest test of my endurance. I’m a woman of northern latitudes, but western American longitudes. It has been a cultural catastrophy in many regards.

My greatest gain here has been my deep and abiding relationship with the Grove of the Golden Leaves in Manchester, NH.

My greatest loss has been impossible to calculate since I’ve yet to overcome the ramifications of the life-changing fall down a flight of stairs.

For over a year I’ve pondered going home to Alaska. It is where my heart lies. Then I think of the ice that lasts until mid-May and the screws and rod that have taken up residence in my body. Added to that, most of my friends have flown the Alaskan coop.

Instead, I’ve met ex-pats on-line who live in Mexico. Some live in central Mexico, most seem to live in Baja California, Mexico or El Norte. It has a great appeal of being Western longitude. Warm weather to ease my aching bones. Days full of opportunity to take endless walks near the beach with my little fur boon-companion who alerts me to noises I need to be aware of.

My daughter and grandkids are used to the idea that Grandma is going to go on the road again – this time looking for a warmer climate where I can spend the rest of my life.

This is my story.  From my earliest memories to my journey across America and into Mexico.  Maybe the grandkids will read it someday.  Y’think?


About anotherboomerblog

I breathe, drive, take photographs, and write - not necessarily in that order.
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2 Responses to Eh? What was that? On the Toad?

  1. Pete says:

    I think Alaska will morn the loss of another good person to warmer clime’s. Just turning 68 and after spending two months with my son in Texas I too have begun to think of living in a warmer world. Alas I fear I have waited too long to move so I will remain just another ‘old man in the woods of Alaska’…..and remember if it is written and they find it they probably will read it.

    • Alaska, being the self-contained place it has always been, undoubtedly hasn’t noticed I’m gone yet. (crooked smile) I always thought “Alaska will always be there,” without taking into account how remote it is. When my daughter goes back to visit friends she spends 14 hours in flight as does my granddaughter when she flies up to see her father and grandparents in Anchorage. I also know if that if I ever step foot there again I won’t have it in me to leave again. My late husband once said if he’d have realized the grief/loss I went through he’d have never taken me out of the state.

      I remember once coming in by plane after visiting my father in Idaho. As I saw the outline of Anchorage International Airport tears sprang to my eyes. I wanted to kiss the ground. Home! Home!

      You are entirely right. If it is written and one finds it they will probably read it. Ahh, well, I’ll just be a bit more careful in my observations. That’s always a good thing anyway, right?

      Where is your cabin in the woods? I do miss those “bottle brush trees.” I’m told I simply have no appreciation for the lush forests of New England. It is not that – it is that behind every tree there’s a house and more people. Sometimes I want to scream bloody murder because there is no getting away from people and cars. 😥

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