Kris’s Kolumn

I’ve been a bit blogless the past month or so and now that I think the worst is over (fat chance) I can tell you why. We moved-I know that will make some of you weep just remembering your own moves, but here’s the rest of my story-and yes, I’ve been weeping myself this past week.  One meltdown was so amazing I wish someone had seen it so I could put it on YouTube and then get on Oprah or Ellen or whoever is still left doing that kind of thing.

A little less than two years ago it dawned on me that the world was pushing me around a little too harshly. It suddenly felt like everyone was driving my life but me and it seemed as if the people who were driving had lost the road map. I took a look around my world and decided it was time for some changes.  I was also in a car with an automatic transmission and I love to drive stick.  That’s a sure sign it’s time to bail.

I started tossing things out the window as I tried to regain control of the steering wheel.  One day I walked around the bigass house, with all the stuff inside of it, and all the work that was part of the deal, the bills that followed right behind too, and said, “This is pretty stupid, Kris.” I’ve never been big on “stuff”.  I cry when I see butterflys and the people behind this new building who dig through the dumpster every night. I am big on emotion, and laughing, and a great view. Priceless and so easy on my little bank account.

The kids are flying, my partner agreed it was time to seriously dance naked and walk the talk, and we sold way more than half of everything.  We had  a two-day yard sale and I watched the little pieces of my life float away for a quarter, a nickle, and an occasional dollar. Someone even bought an old pair of slippers. I cried a bit but I’m not sure I was really sad.(I’m lying.) It took eight months after that to sell the house and all but my desk, a couch, a bed and a few chairs and things. The woman who bought the house is already my friend and is reading her way through my novels as part of her own healing process.  Her husband died in an accident a few months ago.  This was a huge sign that I was heading in the right direction.

The hardest part of the whole deal has been parting with my personal library, which I already wrote about, but I know they are all in very good hands. My heart hurts a bit just to write this part.

Now we are renting a condo that is less than half the size of the house. I live in the city again for the first time in, geeze, thirty-plus years.  Right now I can look out and see the blue bay, tall buildings, and I am twelve stories closer to the clouds and my beloved birds. That’s all I know about this new place for now.  I will keep you posted. I think, as my friend Joan says, “It’s all about the view, Kris.” and this is a pretty damn good view. And the garbage thing is right down the hall!

You know me as the queen of change, empowerment, and openness and I didn’t want you all to think I had fallen and couldn’t get up. My knees, legs, arms, and hands are bruised from the move but I’m falling head first into Phase 690 of my life.

And I’ve got my hand on the stick shift baby. Get out of the road because I’m coming fast, the windows are down, and that wild laugh you hear is from the driver of the Radish bus.

I’m already in third gear…..

The storm literally blew out of nowhere-which, as we know, is often the case with everything in life. One minute the sky was slinky blue with a few dark dots and the next it exploded. I had just returned from buying more toilet paper, always my favorite job, shut the door, turned around and the palm trees in the front yard were bent in half.

Being somewhat of a weather aficionado, (Who doesn’t love – “It was a dark and stormy night?”), I guessed the wind went from about 15 mph to 70-plus in five seconds. I was pretty happy I had extra toilet paper when I saw our metal For Sale sign swirl past the house, miss a window,  and dip under a neighbor’s truck.

Two days ago when this happened we had guests.  People say they come to visit us because they miss us but I know they come to sit in the sun and complain about how cold it is where they live.  They are also fond of the beverages we serve.

This was a top ten storm. I made everyone take a quick look out of the top windows, there were a few photos sent back to the daughter in Chicago-just so she could worry like one guest has worried about her for 25 years, and then we got the hell off the top floor and I gave a quick in-service on the hurricane proof house that was built like a small fort.   We cranked on the television and sure enough, the weather people were in storm heaven. In some areas, like ours, the wind was pushing waaayyy past 100 mph, and trailers were being tossed around like pieces of straw.

We worried for a short time and then did what anyone who likes to live, enjoys drama, and who laughs at the fate the universe often hands us would do.  We opened up some champagne.

Of course we were worried about people getting hurt, and falling trees, but we worried with our glasses full. When the storm settled down, ten hours later, the world here was littered with pieces of trees, flower buds, and more For Sale signs. It was a cosmic scene that made us  giddy with gratefulness and the notion that we must always and forever keep champagne in the house.

The recycling bin is now full of bottles, the yard is still a little messy, and I’ve decided to laugh into and at  the wind, which hasn’t been that kind to me lately.

My cup runneth over and so do all of my glasses.

Bring on the storms of life. I’m ready.