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Looking out my Backdoor: Blue-haired lady on the move

When this gray-haired grandma left Mexico for Washington I filled two suitcases, large and small, with clothing I have yet to wear, with gifts to give, with everything possible I think I might need, most of which I have not needed. Or wanted.

At home in Mexico I live a minimulist life. On the road, I have not learned how to survive with two pants, two shirts and a toothbrush. Sadly, I am constitutionally incapable of traveling lightly.

Not to mention, my minimal (?) shopping while in Washington. I have picked up a few items. Even though I unloaded gifty things I brought for my family and friends, for some reason the ratio of unloaded items to items to reload is inversely proportional. Little things, like canning lids with bands, impossible to find in my small town. Larger things like printer ink cartridges. And sheets, just because. There might be a universal law in effect here. Not to mention just a couple other most essential things unmentionable.

To add to the pile of stuff, friends told me that snow fell in the mountains. Our class reunion is in Glacier National Park this year, so that becomes my first Montana destination. Truly conditions in the park are such that one might freeze or fry.

I am not worrying about the fires. I feel kinship with Sam McGee. However, I do not “do” cold. In a small panic, I bought waterproof hiking boots, two jackets, gloves, a hat and two sweaters. Boots are new. Goodwill provided the rest.

Consequently, I made a dry run with my suitcases and was forced to come up with Plan B. I filled a box, hiked it to the post office and mailed it to my daughter.

Once I give my daughter and family the remainder of my gifts, I am certain I have room to stuff everything back into my suitcases when I leave Montana, in October. Between now and then, I cannot allow myself to buy or accept one more item. None. Nada. Zero. That’s all folks.

Well, maybe one more pair of jeans. But that is all. Really.

So, where does the blue-haired lady enter the picture? I have never been one to fuss with my looks, have never dyed my hair. So my natural me is gray/brown. Five years ago, I might have said brown/gray. Progress. Or is that regress?

Bright blue is a granddaughter-grandmother bonding experience, instigated by Kristen, Ben’s girlfriend. One afternoon she painted portions of our hair blue. I rather like it, despite a few startled looks, offset by gracious comments. Both Lexi and I have a few striking blue strands on the right sides of our heads. It is fun. And, in two weeks, it will be washed out. Fun with a wash-out date.

When I get off the plane in Great Falls, you will recognize me. I am the blue-haired lady in the parka and mukluks, lugging entirely too much stuff behind me.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com. Email [email protected].

 

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