Leave of Absence
As Jer mentioned in his last note, things are a tad busy in these parts. This evening represents the first night of my last work trip for this job. I’m far south on the furthest reaches of the state in a big hotel that overlooks the ocean. This morning began with cow spit and donkey bites and is ending with deluxe room service (thank you, job-that-is-ending, for allowing me to push my per diem to the absolute limit) on a plush king-sized bed. Strange day. Strange juxtaposition, this.
Last week I was also on the road with the work crew and dragged myself into the hotel bar after a particularly harrowing day, pulled self onto a bar stool and ordered a bourbon on the rocks which the bartender exclaimed was “sexy.” I asked if it was “sexy” enough to be free, but he just stopped smiling and walked away. A girl’s gotta try. There I was and here I am now in these artificially fancy settings wishing badly for cooler weather and for my hands in the dirt. In about one month I expect the land to literally get turned inside out with the commencement of construction and all that entails. Although I’m trying hard to enjoy my posh surroundings and the last weeks of this lovely job, I happily accept this leave of absence from cubicles and heels and power points, for a few extra hours in the woods. In fact, I’ve found that my most recent job search terms have deteriorated into “donkey groomer,” “goat milker,” “outdoor,” and “forest.” Not the most lucrative scope, I’ll admit. It might be time to put the job search to rest for a few days.
Speaking of leaves of absence, we’ve been away from the land for almost a full week. Due to Jeremy’s work commitments we decided not to head east yesterday morning and instead spent the entire day doing normal things. We made a big breakfast, helped a friend move (And then had lunch with said friend. Lunch with friends on a Saturday!) and we even – gasp shock pause – went on a date. Like, out in the city of Austin. The entire drive home was nostalgic conversation, reminiscing about the Saturday’s of years past spent leisurely around the house. It was a nice – no a great – day. But I’ll swap it with a dusty Saturday in the pasture any time. Any. Time.