Today I arrive in Truth or Consequences, an event which has happened more than a few times this life. No one, even a T or C’ean  can really describe what this means.

To me, a kind of resident alien, it means getting to the stop-place. No more cardboard cups in clingy plastic, a struggle to open  with these elderfingers. It means resting my eyes on the same contents around me each day after a week of measuring motel rooms against my soon-to-be-reality. A week of stripping down jungle landscape to mountain rocks.

Former arrivals were more white-eyed & manic: an I’M HOME, I’M HERE, OMG! about them.

I have a feeling in my stomach this one will be more of an, OK, let’s mean it this time. Let’s hold hugs, greet familiarity, marvel at new murals – slide into the pace where the town moves – adjusting to that moving treadmill. Fitting in while standing out. For these are my clear intentions.

This entry is less a splash, than a sliding in, snugging up the snaps. For some while it will be a supernova of confusion – what’s in this box? Even tho I packed them only seven days ago. And wrote letters on them: K for kitchen, etc. Yes, for kitchen, but what’s in the box?

Spatulas? Spoons? Funny, the only souvenir I bought crossing country was a painted spoon from Buc-ees. In case you’re not familiar, Buc-ees is a mecca of the milk the travel-bucks ilk – pitched consumerism with abundant & decent food, good quality junk, overpriced clothes. Gas pumps make it appear a necessity, but I see that phenom of not ENtrance, but EnTRANCE upon entry. I can see that manic beaver logo cropping up on more landscapes even as I retire into the same daily one. (Buc = Buck, get it? Eee’s/ease of spending?) Americans in search of an experience, thinking shopping is so. (Before leaving, I grabbed one remaining soup spoon from the counter for my purse & it  served well along the way.)

Arrivals & Departures are but two sides of the wealth hoarded & spent in the realm of my life. Whether wisely or foolishly cannot be judged as only the purchases remain. I found a burger place last night & while waiting for my first green chile in years, I watched pictures of the gray, frothing ocean reported from the storms in Florida. It already looked impossibly remote & imaginary.

This morning I picture my new room in lifted ambient yellow. In my mind, the curtains are hung, the pictures a little crooked, some oldie/new furniture, a table & chairs tucked up, possessions arranged on shelves or in baskets. It will be my newest memory & well worth all I’ve spent to be so.

I sit in the corner there, with my favorite mug, sipping coffee. I have the rhythm now – I’ve switched from arrivals & departures to departures &  arrivals. I like this A-word better!