I wake up in my own bed.  I can’t lie, it feels a little weird.  That two weeks ago I closed on my house, a week ago I arrived in Florida and yesterday I bought my new little traveling home.  I don’t have a lot of time to think about it because I’ve got wheel chucks to buy and a truck to look at back in Sarasota. It’s got a sun roof.  And his wife’s name is Jennifer.  Those are enough lights to head down that path at least a few steps.

As I arrive at his house and as I get out of my car, I ask for a sign if it’s mine.  I realize I should probably look under the hood and check the oil, but what I really want is a sign.  It’s beautiful and his garage is well organized and he’s an architect.  All good things, right?!  I take it for a drive and we have a talk about it and I feel like this is the kind of guy you can trust.  We negotiate a price and I try to figure out how I’ll get him the money.  He asks for a deposit, all I have is $60 and he crosses out “non” on the “non-refundable” line and says he’ll give it back if I change my mind.  I find that part pretty comical.  He asks for my last name to put on the receipt and then puts the pen down and says incredulously, “you’re kidding me!”  I say that I’m not, that’s really my last name, and wonder why he’s having this reaction.  “My last meeting at work today before coming here to meet you was with clients with the same last name as yours.  I showed them the final plans for their new house.”   He really can’t believe it.  I can.  It’s my sign.

I go to Target to buy a heap of stuff for it.  “Drift Away” plays on the radio; another song that says my dad to me.  The Nylons performed it.  A Canadian a cappella group that my dad helped bring to Madison and every year my sister and I would watch one of their shows from the audience and the other from stage left, dancing between the heavy red velvet curtains.  We’d party with them backstage and I was in love with the soprano, Marc.  He was gay but I had no idea.  I was 16 and he was my crush.

After an hour of shopping, I walk out with beer and a set of small, sparkly Christmas ornaments.  I’m elated and I’m exhausted.  I come back home to the ranch and realize that it’s all come together just before Christmas.  Now I can relax into the holidays without thinking about what I’ll live in and what I’ll pull it with.