Waking up around noon in the spare bedroom at Jimmy and mom’s house in Bartow, Florida.
Eating a Breakfast Bar and Black Tea. Taking care of Music Makers business and other things on the computer.
Hanging out with Grandma Carr and Jimmy. Jimmy shows me around the house and discusses all the plans we have to upgrade things on it to get it ready to sell. It’s strange being here without my mom being here. She lived here for quite some time and it belonged to her mom. Little remnants of her I spot around especially on the lanai – all the little knick knacks and décor.
We head out to downtown Bartow to eat a late lunch at a Mexican restaurant. I’m grateful he and Grandma Carr are around. They’re still family. I owe a lot to him supporting my mom all those years when they were married.
I say my adieu and take a scenic route north towards Ocala. I pass by hilly ranges of cows and weeping willows with Spanish moss covering the branches. For some reason I’m in the mood to make ABBA the soundtrack. The genre and 70’s sounds remind me of my mom and the melodies and tones are so rich.
Linking up with the ANWR crew at Fairfield Inn right in the middle of every corporate chain imaginable. Not much going on with the group tonight. It appears everyone started day drinking by the time I got there.
Up in the hotel room – sharing a room with Jimmy Wiseman, the bass player. I catch up on Music Makers business – following up on things Kay did at the studio today.
I walk across the street from the hotel – a light rain and wind discouraging me from my venture. Waffle House is calling my name cause nothing else was open. I wanna say the last time I was at a Waffle House would’ve been back in the day when Becca and I spent late Monday nights here sharing spontaneous inspirations and confiding in each other. Well, I’m here now in need of some heavy sustenance. Brittany, a plain girl with glasses and an attentive personality, waits on me. I order The All Star, which includes eggs, hash browns smothered in tomatoes and onions, Toast, and a Waffle. I politely ask to hold the bacon or sausage. She seems confused but understood. Sipping on a Black Tea and reading this Steppenwolf book by Hermann Hesse, a book I’ve attempted to finish over the years but can’t seem to cause the only time I have it is when traveling. I always find little pockets of inspiration. I underline lines that speak to me and crease the corners of the pages. Meanwhile, Ana calls cause the breakers went out at the house but turns out they didn’t – it was just a dead light bulb in her closet. She had a tooth extracted today – she seems to be doing alright but it was long overdue. A few various couples and small groups of friends walk in – no loners like me though. I keep thinking about mom and how it’s only been a couple months since she passed (it still doesn’t feel real sometimes). I cherish these moments of reflection and simple reading. I need more...
“Solitude is independence.”
Sleep finally in this soft hotel room bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment