Finding Peace in Montana

Brain fried, body tired, need Montana

On Saturday I left Oregon at the torturous, bone-jangling hour of six in the morning to head to Helena, Montana.

I don’t “do” six in the morning. I feel like I’ve been hit in the face by a flying goat. It’s unhealthy for me to get up that early. Definitely a fright to my nervous system. I don’t like any frightful things happening to my nervous system as I am nervous enough already.

But, alas, I’ll do just about anything to de-fry my brain and calm down in Montana. It’s like heaven was drawn in a painting and the painting landed across the entire state. I feel like I can breathe when I’m there. Plus, there’s something about the rivers and the mountains that make writing and delving into my boiling and toiling imagination easier.

This is the view from my sister and brother in law’s house. Those mountains emit “calming waves” that chill a stressed person out. Everyone knows it.

This time I was visiting my sister Cindy. She’s older than I am, so of course she’s wiser. She tells me this. I believe her because you’re supposed to be able to trust older siblings about this type of thing. Plus I am bad at math and she has read all the classics. Surely that counts.

Cindy has a husband named Todd. She met him when she was 16 and he was 17 and it was true love at first glance in the aisle of the retail store they were both working in. The retail store was going out of business, but Cindy’s and Todd’s “business” was just heating up.

This is the Smart One. She was leaning over my shoulder as I wrote this article, like a curious peacock. Now and then she would giggle.

Met as teenagers. Married 38 years. Two kids, two adorable son/daughter in laws, one grandchild who tries to eat crayons. The scruffy bobcat that came by recently is not their pet.

I met Todd when I was 13. I immediately nicknamed him Toad. He’s like another brother. I bought him this gift so he would never forget his nickname.

Todd and Cindy live on three bucolic acres of land up in the hills above Helena. It’s private and cozy and has panoramic views of natural serenity.

I can wander around their garden, swing in a hammock, cross the bridge over their stream, visit their chickens for a nice chat, and keep an eye on wildlife to make sure it follows the rules and stays outside.

One time a bear climbed up their apple tree. He broke a bunch of branches. The bear refused to sign a legal contract agreeing not to steal apples again. He said he was not worried about being arrested. At least he stayed outside.

This is the view off the deck. If you look closely the clouds spell out, “Your nerves will de-frazzle in Montana. If not, try a straight shot of tequila.”

Cindy and Todd have two dogs, one who almost speaks English, and farts badly. Her name is Toula. It’s not polite of me to talk about things such as this, but it’s like a wall of stench bulldozing you in waves. It’s like you’re being suffocated. It’s like Big Foot, smelling like rot, is standing behind you with chloroform.

Toula looks innocent but she is not. She always pretends it “wasn’t her.” You can tell she’s pretending right here.

The other dog is not a farter. Tiny is sweet, but she was a rescue and she is skittish and anxious and doesn’t like people much because of past abuse. Especially not new people.

This is Tiny. For those of you who are introverts, you can totally see it in her. This is the look of a being who would rather sit down with a good book than go to a party and be forced to talk to people and smile.

Four cats meander about as if they own the place. One is named Pumpkin. She doesn’t look like a pumpkin, she looks like a puzzle. One would think Todd and Cindy would have named her Puzzle. Why did they name a cat Pumpkin who does not look at all like a Pumpkin? This is confounding to me.

I swear to you we did not swing this cat onto the puzzle to prove my point. This cat, named Pumpkin KNOWS that her name should have been Puzzle, which is why she’s sitting on one. It’s a bit passive aggressive on her part.

Twenty chickens cluck about. If you’re lucky, and the chicken is unlucky, you will see a bald eagle swooping in like black and white hellfire. He will pinch a startled chicken with his pointy claws and swoop that poor thing into the great blue yonder where the chicken will soon become lunch. This part would not be relaxing for me to see. I would worry about the chicken’s panicked feelings.

Chicken, I hope you are not eaten by a bald eagle.

Yes, these are the eggs that you get to eat while at Cindy and Todd’s. I did not paint them.

Cindy and Todd understand that I have a quiet introvert living inside of me (like Tiny) who can tap out on conversation. When this happens I go to my “hole off the hall,” otherwise known as “Cathy’s bedroom” in the basement. There is a magically heavy blanket that keeps me down flat and sleeping like a normal person, which is not how I usually sleep, given the ruthlessness of my insomnia.

Yes, even I can sleep. here. The blanket is very heavy. Keanu Reeves is under the bed.

Amidst sleeping and cheerful but not-too-bright chickens, the calm descends. If you knew me in real life you would know that I’m a bit high strung. Ex-Type A. A blunt sort of person whose mind races TOO FAST most of the time and makes me tired.

But when I’m in Montana, I am at peace. I can think of new ideas for books by the stream. I can fix plot problems in my head while I watch the rooster strut. I can set writing goals and make plans for future books when the wind meanders through. Characters talk to me and I talk back as we get to know each other by the vegetable garden.

This is where you come to regain sanity. See those hammocks? You can lay in them like a human slug.

Wishing you all peace, wherever you are.

Sincerely,

Cathy, who feels better.

PS If you’re on Kindle Unlimited, my second novel, The Last Time I Was Me, is now available to read. I think it’s one of my funnier books.