Stairstruck

I got an email from a friend asking where my blog went. I'm still here, just a bit busy.

Actually busy with xmas knitting! I have some FO's to show you but I have to get the pic's off my camera and into the computer so I'll do that later.

I've also been having some sort of small mental breakdown/cliche' midlife crisis something or other. I think the stress of the last three years has caught up with me all at once, so that's nice.

On Monday, Dave and I were driving around and the AC/DC song Highway to Hell was on the radio and if you know that song, you know it has a very definite ending. Boom. Done. Dave said, "See, that's the way a song should end." I looked at him quizzically and he elaborated, "I never understood songs that fade off. Like the band just walks away from the mike still playing?"

I laughed my ASS off. I never thought about it but that's so true! I said, "Yea, so I'm picturing the wandering minstrel walking away still plinking on his lute." And Dave said, "Or the band is on some flatbed truck driving to the next town."

I couldn't stop laughing. Literally. I was getting a touch hysterical! Then, out of nowhere, I got this huge lump in my throat - the kind you get when you're trying not to sob - and I seriously almost started crying. WTF???

Have I ever told y'all about my love affair with stairs? When I was 5, we moved to the ranch and it was the first house I lived in with stairs. I spent an inordinate amount of time sitting on those stairs. I'd sit there and daydream or read. Our cabin up at Shaver Lake (CA) also had stairs and those were even better since they were sort of dark and secret.

Then divorce and moving and no more stairs. Until I was in Basic Training. That was my only solace. I'd sneak off into the stairwell and be alone until someone saw me and I'd have to go back to whatever we were supposed to be doing.

Some stairs here and there throughout my time in Army barracks then no more until we moved to Colorado three years ago.

Our house in Parker had two sets of stairs (yay!). I'd usually sit on the set leading to the bedrooms. It was a great set as it was also close to the kitchen so I'd sit on them while waiting for things to cook. Our new place has just one set of stairs but they are good ones.

Dave doesn't understand my stair-sitting. He says, "Why don't you come down and sit with the family?" That's the whole point of stair-sitting! It's a chance to be alone but still be able to hear your loved ones and listen to them and how they interact with each other. It's a place to be still and be quiet. Stairs have always been an area where I don't have to think or worry or do anything but just be.

This would be my dream staircase leading to a little room just for me. The only thing I'd change would to make the stairs a bit wider.

So don't worry about me, friends. I'm here. I'm a bit stressed, even a bit delirious at times, but still relatively sane and sitting on my stairs.

I blame lack of sleep, Ruth!