We struggle now to find some direction or purpose.
The last two years have been a constant steam of new places. During the summer, we visited the Mediterranean, Canada, Alaska, crisscrossing the US. We find ourselves stopping now with no real plans. I think we may be stuck in the life planning process, unable or unwilling to make decisions.
I got a call from the dermatologist yesterday. Both biopsies came back positive: a recurrent basal on the temple and a new squamous on the ear. They want me to see a specialist. That puts a small crimp in our ability to quickly move on.
We think about traveling to a small town in North Carolina to purchase a home. The town is called New Bern. It’s on the coast at the confluence of two rivers. It’s in an area they call “the low country” and has a population of about 20,000. I’m filled with nagging doubt about this course of action.
Mrs. Phred thinks I need a job again. I wonder about that. It’s a way to mark time and fill hours, but not much more.
I envy Mrs. Phred’s sister and husband. They made the bold decision to move to Venice for a year and to immerse themselves in Italian language lessons. On the other hand, I was bored with Venice after two days. Maybe I suffer from a short attention span.
We search for the lodestar. It's obsured by clouds. In the past we lived near employment, educational or family opportunities.
So what to do? Take courses at a University? Rent a flat in Paris? Keep moving? Buy a house? Flip houses? Visit Vegas and find the chicken tic-tac-toe masters? Go to the Keys and catch lobsters? Sign up with an Alaska crab boat? Run moonshine? Join the Peace Corps? Work on a political campaign? Search for the bones of Amelia Earhart? Apply for a position with Blackwater?
(to be continued)