Kalamazoo zoo zoo

Here in Kalamazoo

Does anyone else get Glenn Miller déjà vu when they hear Kalamazoo?

I got a gal (in Kalamazoo)
Don't wanna boast, but I know she's the toast
Of Kalamazoo-zoo-zoo-zoo-zoo-zoo

Years have gone by (my, my how she grew)
I liked her looks when I carried her books
In Kalamazoo-zoo-zoo-zoo-zoo

I'm gonna send a wire, hoppin' on a flyer
(Leavin' today)

So, today I hopped a train to Kalamazoo—not exactly by choice.

As mentioned in my last post: I recently found out I have cataracts. Not a little, but a lot. I was told not to drive and I knew I had a presentation in Kalamazoo in less than a week. Nothing upsets me more than to think I’ll disappoint someone. So, with the little agency I still possessed. I booked a morning train to the city/town and figured something would work out.

It did.

First off: the train was only $9, less money than I was planning to give to someone to drive me. Second, my husband was here visiting and was going back on the same train and could help me lug the suitcase full of books onto the train. We had an enjoyable time drinking tea, eating banana bread I’d brought, and discussing books and literature. Our conversation kept circling back to the Lost Generation of writers and activists living in Greenwich Village in the 20s/30s. Anyway, it was pleasant and calming and I wasn’t thinking about my bad eyes and how I was going to get from the station to the library in order to just hang out until later that day.

But, like the song, he carried my books as did the conductor who insisted on taking my suitcase as I disembarked, I warned him it was heavy.

Then, there at the station was my host, Bonnie Jo Campbell, waiting to take me to her donkey heaven in the woods by a creek where I now sit. The donkeys hiding from the rain and the stream outside the window (I wish I could see it better) and bird song. Bonnie Jo invited me to sit at her dining room table and write while she wrote elsewhere in the house. I was so glad to have a friendly place to hang out instead of the library and rolling my suitcase there in the rain. I, too, am a bit like the donkeys, not wanting to get wet, needing to be rescued.

I’m also reminded of how things work out—not all the time, but mostly—when I travel and take a leap of faith. I don’t think it’s because I’m a glass half full person—maybe—but even before smart phones and GPS there always seemed to be a way. Though, I’m glad I have those things now.

Within a small space of time, a sudden shift with the news about my cataracts, things fell into place. Some my own doing and some the result of other people jumping in. And I’ve landed in the most wonderful place feeling like I’m on a writing retreat with my little computer, thermos of tea, banana bread, and a white cat at my feet.

All this gives me hope—that I can schedule the procedure soon and everything will come back into focus.

so many whacky conversations, found out about tick keys