Well, we’re ensconced in a tiny, tiny little house behind a bigger house mid-way between a university and giant high school, here in the largest city in Kansas
Xena has gone off the deep end in accepting the loan of the house. I’m not sure, since she never says, but it seems she’s looking for some kind of belonging. Like I said, she never explains herself, but she’s been joining groups, organizations, schools, since we came here. I’m innocent.
No school today, so I get to write, paint, read whatever I want, sleep, explore, sit. For some reason the schools here give the students a day off every now and then but make the teachers stay in school. Kind of different. But I’m happy. Xena though, as usual, has her day planned at the beginning and then will go with the flow, as she says, and just let the rest of her day take care of itself. She and Rosie were up at the usual time for school, even though the schools are out, as I said, and they took off for an orchestra TV thing that somehow she’s involved in with the school. How she does it I don’t know. Don’t ask I guess.
Back to the beginning.
It gets complicated trying to chronicle our lives. Sometimes I just give up and don’t write. Xena gives me a raised eyebrow if I don’t. Rosie stops wagging her tail if I don’t. So I’ll write a little today.
The first reason we’re stuck here and going to two schools at the same time, the high school and one of the three universities’ in town must go back to those motorcycles with the American flags. And the funeral. And the church protesters. And Xena’s natural good nature when she tried to say hello to the motorcycle people.
So we’re stuck, at least until Xena gets antsy and decides to explore farther west, which will happen in a few weeks. I hope. But she belongs here for awhile. Not really a bad place, kind of nice sleeping in an actual bed. Even though I’ve never really had an actual bed to sleep in, as far as I can remember.
Rosie seems happy also. We took her to a big festival for dogs a couple of weekends ago, just after we found the little house, and Xena let her run an obstacle course where she went over jumps and up and down see saws and weaved in and out of poles. Rosie was the fastest, of course. She even stayed the same color all morning at the festival. Now Rosie thinks she owns the town. Somehow, don’t ask, Xena got her a therapy license and now takes her everywhere, even to school. Rosie let’s her put a blue harness on her and they go to the mall and on campus all the time. Teachers are a lot more human here than they were back home.
I asked Xena what kind of therapy dog Rosie has become and she seriously said that she would warn Xena when she was about to have a seizure.
“A Seizure?”
“Yes, you never know when I might have one, see,” she said and pulled out a prescription for seizure medicine.
“What? You don’t have seizures,” I said.
“See, it’s working. Isn’t it?” She pulled Rosie over and gave a hug. Rosie turned pink.
I didn’t ask where she came up with a prescription for what I assumed was seizure medicine. Anyway, Rosie went to school with us every morning. Ate lunch in the cafeteria, everyday with us, and was now on a field trip with Xena and the orchestra, and I had a few free minutes. What, with the homework from the classes had signed both of us for, and the college classes we took twice a week, I had less and less time to just sit and drink one of Xena’s expensive coffee that she was already addicted to, and I was quickly becoming dependent on them every morning, noon and night. I’m extra glad for Xena’s mysterious credit cards.
We had been driving north away from the blue grass festival when I saw an island up ahead on the turnpike. Xena was playing a song on her ukulele and singing in the front seat beside me. Rosie was between us on the space between the seats.
“Want to stop and get something to eat?” I asked on the spur of the moment.
Xena glanced up and smiled, and nodded yes.
That was our second mistake.
Our first was that I hadn’t bothered to look behind us and see the yellow church bus.
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