Previously, I lived in Navasota, a small town, in a downtown upstairs loft. Navasota was about a half hour from a metropolitan area, Bryan/College Station.
In Whitehouse, a town about the same size as Navasota, I live in "the country" with few neighbors and lots of trees, birds and flowers, but I am less than ten minutes from a metropolitan area.
I had lots of friends, lots, but no family. Here I have a good bit of family, but no friends.
I worked forty hour weeks at the City of Navasota. So far I have avoided paid labor in Tyler. But, its coming. Lane and Kathy will be opening their new store, Clothes Mentor, in a couple of weeks and I'll be putting in some hours there. I will also help out with kids and meals as they get up and running and comfortable with such a huge undertaking.
Not everything is a big change; church remains important and Episcopal, and I will be joining Christ Church in downtown Tyler as soon as my Vestry duties are concluded in College Station. Christ Church has an impressive group of priest and leaders and is closely tied to All Saints School where Kathy teaches and the kids attend. I like the synergy. I also like that they don't need me very badly. I'm going to just worship and study there for a while.
I really missed Ms. Mary Lou, Ms. Kim, and all the exercise pals in Navasota but I've found a most satisfactory replacement ... as least as far as the exercise part goes, at the Whitehouse YMCA. It is most reasonable, well designed, staffed and supplied. I go to Gentle Yoga on Monday and Wednesday and to Senior Strength on Tuesday and Thursday. Senior Strength is led by a delightful young Marine who works our little old tushes off but does a great job. Probably 24 seniors are there every day. Hope to schedule my work details around those events!
In two weeks I'll be 72 years old. Personally, I think 72 sounds much better than 71, so I'm not bummed at all. Tonight I found out that my oldest grandson will become a father in the Spring, so I will be a 72 year old great grandmother!
I am exceedingly grateful to my brunette children, Currie and Kathy, for all they have done to make me feel useful and welcome here. I've been to the Bascom Cemetery twice to check on Paul. I know he is somewhere just laughing his head off at the thought of me living here.
So, I am juxtaposed. I am still healthy and grateful. I am still alone. But I remain adaptable.
