Still on the road…

Hello,

I don’t know if you are reading them, but I’ve been posting blog on BC Book Tour’s blog as well as here and will be for the rest of this tour. 

I’m tired today.  A combination of being away from home and the loud music blaring in the Honky-tonk bar below me, that seems every night to push the ante just a little bit further.  The first night, the music and whoops and hollers subsided a little after ten.  Then next night it was around 11:10 PM when they turned it down.  LAST night, it was well after midnight!  Or at least that’s when I was able to fall asleep.  David (the author, not my son) said it went on way longer than that. 

Heather moved rooms to the other side of the building and up a floor, inadvertently giving up Internet access, which would have been worth it, but apparently on that side of the building someone had left a dog in a parked van and the dog howled and barked until the wee hours of the morning. 

No one, apparently, had a good night’s sleep.

“I was thinking what we should do is,” Heather said, eyes sparkling.  “Is march into the bar at midnight.”

“In our pajamas,” I put in.

“And do a reading,” she continued.  And the image it conjured up, couldn’t help but make us laugh.  Us doing our passion filled readings of literature, to a bunch of confused, bleary eyed drunks.  “That would clear the place for sure!” Heather said.  “Five minutes tops.”

I find I am missing the comfort of home.  My husband, my boy, Will, my pots and pans, having a fridge.  And to make the missing even more, my boy David arrived last night.  He had a couple of days off, and I’m not there. 

I made Don promise to stand on the stairs, like I do sometimes with my tall grown-up boy and give him a hug, tell him, “This is a hug from your mom.”

“Did you do it?” I asked Don last night on the phone, talking before I tried and failed to drift off to sleep.  “Did you give him the hug from me?”

“Yep,” Don said.

“Did you stand on the stairs so you were taller?  Did you tell him it was from me?”

“Yep,” Don said.

“Did he laugh?”

“Yep,” Don said.  And it made me happy.  Happy and sad too, because I wished I would have been able to make him laugh in person.

I woke up at ten after three AM, because I thought I felt Don touch my shoulder.  Thought he needed to talk, so I dragged myself out of my sleep wave to be there for him.  And then the room came into focus, and I felt so empty and tired and wanted to be back home, snug in my bed, with my Molly dog sleeping outside my door.

The male teacher at the school I read at today hated my guts.  I don’t even know this guy, but he had a whole story about me and who I was playing in his head.  He was a real asshole.  I wonder if his wife left him or something and I reminded him of her?  I was there for the kids, but he made it hard.  So glad I never have to see him again.  What an unpleasent person.  He really hurt my feelings and then in the van, I got mad.  He doesn’t deserve my anger.  I’m over it now.  But it’s people like that, that make people like me want to just stay home, and stop trying to help, give back.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, April 23, 2008 in Chewing the Fat

Page 1 of 1 pages