So I crash back to earth like the Hip Post says and I wind up back in Gilmanton and Alton where I had left over five years ago. The Village Store, mi mejor amigo's farm and mi mejor amigos chica's farm and the lake and Goodtime Farm across the valley. Kind of weird at times but a sweet way to recover watching sunsets around a fire pit or taking steam showers and hanging out with a corgi that I'm training to be part of a payaso act. So far we have mastered the sit and the paw. We are advancing to roll over and some jumping for treats shit.
This isn't about the location, the view, fire pits, the bathroom, or even the dog. It's about two incredible kind and caring peeps in my life who demanded that I stay with them, him before my surgery and her after I'm out of rehab. I spent the pre-op time in a 233 year old farm and spent my second night back in the US in my old bed, the first person to sleep in the room in 62 years. I had to get up at 0620 in the morning to watch the sunrise given that kind of timing. I have some history in this house with an extremely influential Buddhist teacher in my life and being back in it had an underlying reminiscence that brought a smile to my face and in my head. Mi mejor amigo was there to make it all happen, easily and gracefully. I was once told that I lived my life vicariously through mi mejor amigo and now he was mi proveedor. The hot tub in the milk house was welcomed until the hip got too susceptible to the cold in the walk to and from the mh.
I couldn't go back to the Farm after my surgery because of the stairs and that's where KtK came in. She was the adamant one who sent emails about where I had to stay and how it was going to work. One floor, no stairs, dog company, constantly, steam showers, no schedule other than physical therapy and the lady who made this all so easy. My concern was awkwardness, feeling like a squatter, the third person but so far never experienced, through their grace we're like the odd trio, the farmer, the pharma and el sombrero.
I'm making plans to go back to Panama in September to take the next step but have to fill space between now and then. No gig at the bar this summer as they needed someone who could be there at the start of the summer and that wasn't physically me. Mi proveedors came up with some barn painting, my new physical and fiscal therapy and the desire to have me hang until I leave. I may have to take the dog to Panama.
I really wanted to make this post a testimony to my friends for what they have done for me before the trips and after. I realize no matter how much Jameson, Corona in the can and medical grade I do to inspire my writing, I can't express my gratitude for what you have done and the graceful and loving way you have done it.
AJ and Katie I am humbled by the experience...
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