I've heard from some of my women folk "back home" in the Low Country, and now I am incredibly lonely. I had some really wonderful friends there (and in some of the other places we've lived), and it is killing me that I can't pick them all up and move them here with me. The Bonfire Leader refuses to live anywhere snowy again, so the best I can hope for is flying her out for visits. My co-conspirator in the wives club has just had a baby over the summer, and I hate knowing that I can't see him grow and develop. For that matter, I would have liked to have seen him in person a single time since he emerged victorious from his sponsor. If I'm lucky, that whole family will move closer to me someday, and I can see them again. I had a really good friend whose husband worked closely with mine, who ran off to the other side of the world for a year, and now that they have moved back to the states, they're still on the wrong side of the country for me to see her and her two perfect children. Things are just too quiet around here without these women, and so many others who made life in and around the Park so special. I miss them.
Tonight was the first bunco game of the season back in SC. I find myself out here with no bunco group, nor any idea where to go to start or join one. Actually, that's not totally true. I think I know where one might meet in far southeast Denver, but I am unlikely to drive that far to participate. I keep dragging my feet on ordering a mah jongg set to start playing here, but I do have people interested in that. I wonder how hard it would be to get enough people to field a couple tables' worth of bunco? I used to know a ton of people here. Several of them still exist. And yesterday, when I was digging through boxes in the garage, I found our old collection of dice from the role-playing game days. There were loads of regular six-sided dice in there. Plenty for bunco. Plenty for several tables of play. First I need to get the place set for a housewarming party (once Mr Man is home), and reconnect with a few people. Then we can discuss bunco, maybe.
One person I'd missed particularly keenly was my massage therapist. We said our goodbyes in May, and I froze my account and hadn't been to see anyone else since. Tonight I finally got to meet a new therapist, a tiny little girl (compared to my last therapist who was roughly six feet tall) who was enthusiastic about deep tissue work. I have been a mess, moving twice, including that two day straight ride in the truck, smashing my foot repeatedly (same foot every time), falling in the shower and wrenching my hip out of place, and carrying so much stress in my molars that I can barely move my jaw. I needed work done so desperately. In five short months, I went from well-managed muscles to "holy crap your back is like concrete!" again. New girl said she was glad I signed up for an hour and a half tonight, and she was in favor of my October ritual of getting a two hour massage for my birthday. The longer the better she said, as she dug her elbows into my rib cage over and over. She worked miracles. I almost bend again now. Every part of me is flexible, except my jaw. That will take remembering to wear my bite guard, and maybe allowing myself to have a little brown liquor again one of these days. And that brings my mind back to the bunco and bonfire ladies. And now I'm lonely again.
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