At the very start of the month we traveled south to Shasta county, our annual trip to see my brother and his family. My father came up too, like he does every year, and we stayed in the same little cabin right on the river. I love this place.
It was great to spend time with my family and especially to watch Waits with his little cousins – the two boys are only 6 months apart. But it was also strange, because Damian and I just went on as if nothing were wrong. We’re really private people, I guess, and prefer to keep things tight and tidy.
On the trip I read a book that sort of blew my mind:
And one afternoon, while everyone else was off at the lake, I was reading that book on a blanket under the big apple tree. And I heard a strange sound and I looked up, and what did I see but a teeny tiny kitten in the crook of the tree right above me!
So of course, I climbed! And look what I found:
There were four of them up there, just wee little mewling babes. Feral, but too young to know any better, so they let me touch them. I almost died of cute, and when my family returned, I climbed back up the tree and lowered them down:
They spent the night in the hamper and we dropped them off at the shelter on our way out of town the next morning. Rescue successful!
I kind of didn’t take any pictures in the middle of the month. Our days were spent savoring the last bits of summer, and evenings on our long walks, talking talking talking. We dreamed about moving back to Santa Barbara and schemed over how we could possibly pull it off (Sell at a loss? Impossible. Refinance and rent the house out? Where would the money to refinance come from? Not refinance and rent it out? Rent wouldn’t cover the mortgage so we’d take a hit every month. And on). We went round and round like that; nothing seemed financially smart. But mostly we talked about us, our relationship, our history, and our future.
Amanda Palmer. This was the song:
We started seeing a couple’s counselor in August, too.
And then at the end of the month, another trip. But just Waits and I. We went home to SB where I holed up with my bestie in her parent’s house (they were away all summer). Two weeks of beach walks and late-night wine, pool fun and vegan cooking in that incredible kitchen. Two weeks of processing and perspective. Two weeks of being away from each other, and feeling better for it.
Damian and I talked every few days. And the truth was undeniable. Over the phone, still 900 miles apart, we agreed to a trial separation.
September, coming soon . . .