Out

Yesterday, we all packed up and headed out to Plant City, for the Florida Strawberry Festival... kind of a diversion, considering that it was the anniversary of my uncle's death. A festival for strawberries. I didn't really want to go, but I was hounded into it. Turned out not to be so bad, though I still can't see celebrating hairy berries. Other than hitting puberty. And that's kinda personal.

It is a really big thing, this berry festival. You wouldn't believe all of the folks cramming into this little town. The grounds were crammed and pissing me off, and the larger part of the crowd had yet to get there. Martina McBride was playing there that night, and when we left, cars were backed up to I-4. Hate to see some of the other nights... there were some very big names scheduled to play there over the week. All country music, though...

While my aunt hasn't said much, her mother is here, and she can't help but keep talking about finding my uncle dead in his chair. I suppose that's her way of dealing, but it does bug the fuck out of me. I don't really need to hear the events over and over. I'm just glad my aunt hasn't heard any of it.

The date of the exodus has been set... April 14. Joses makes his way out of Florgypt, back to the promised land. Things are cool here, and a little bit tense. Nervous, tense. Not angry, tense. I know that I've done more than many would, but I can't help but feel like I haven't helped enough. I kinda feel like I'm leaving her in the lurch. At least this time, she's got plenty of time to prepare. I just keep hearing the words of our polisher: "If something were to happen to you, we'd be back in the same spot as when Russ died. Have to start all over again. At least we'd know we could do it." I guess there's a bit of comfort in those last words...

Blogging probably will suck for the next month or so. Suck more than usual, that is. I'll be stuck in the shop late each night, so that I can spend a little bit of time on the weekends trying to see folks before I head out for good. Seeing old friends, and hopefully meeting some new. A chance to break away, too.

Peace out, peeps.

Posted by That 1 Guy at March 5, 2007 08:29 PM | TrackBack