I haven't been here in a long time and so much has happened in my life since I last posted that I feel like I'm a foreigner in my own journal. Or maybe like I've wandered into a city I once knew well after having spent a lot of years at sea. There are new roads and buildings but I think I remember how to get to the Old Quarter where the artists and authors worked their magic and the tavern where the critics and philosophers would drink or shoot pool with drabblers and vidders. As I walk through the streets, I see ghosts of old friends but also here and there, friendly faces that are familiar to me too. My heart is glad to still find them here. Some look well traveled too.
My real life travels have taken me to finally see the Pacific Ocean and the California coast as well as St. James Park, the Globe Theatre, the Book of Kells and the Festival in Edinburgh. My kid is a high school senior, my Mom's Alzheimer's progressed to the point where she has moved into a memory care unit, and my country is a political quagmire which will hopefully be on the mend come January if the current administration doesn't permanently damage our democracy with some assistance from the spineless republican party. I've come to know the acronyms acab, BLM, afab, AOC and mourned the passing of RBG. I wear a mask when I'm out and about like most of the rest of the world. My husband and I started a wireless ISP in his rural, underserved hometown to try to be the change we wanted to see in the world. After three years, we can see we did something right and we have a lot of work still ahead of us. I have never done so much paperwork and math in my life.
I still plant a vegetable garden every summer. This was a good tomato year. I hang out with my dogs and we still walk, just not as far or fast as we used to. I finished a 5000 piece puzzle of the Sistine Chapel ceiling in just shy of a year. Michelangelo, I love you dude, but I got way too close and personal with various parts of Adam and Eve and I think I got mooned by God. I used quarantine to do some genealogy and know that I'm here because an unaccompanied eleven year old Irish boy from Longford somehow got on a boat in Liverpool bound for Boston in 1826 and made it to his destination. I've bounced around a lot fandomwise but ended up with Good Omens by way of Captain America and his winter soldier.
Tonight is the last episode of SPN and although I haven't watched an episode for a couple seasons, I still follow folks on tumblr who post regularly so I have a good idea of what has been happening. I will not be watching the final episode tonight but maybe in the next few days. I think I need the closure. I want to thank the cast and crew for an amazing 15 year run. I had a fabulous time for a lot of years and I will never look at a motel room lamp or art in a hospital hallway without loving thoughts of you. The same goes for floppy hair or fan fiction green eyes. I promise I will keep salt near at hand, borax under my kitchen sink, and a tire iron in my trunk.
To all of you here in this city I have called home although I travel far, I wish you joy and good health. May this final episode be one for you to treasure and may your tissue box not run empty when you need it. My ship leaves with the tide in the morning but I'll see you again. Until then, carry on.