I think about the Crucible a lot, although she would've lived slightly later than that was set, it's what I picture. It's probably more like the Madness of King George (good gah, Mr. Pitt in that was to die for, no?) but less less less wealthy and in America. Hmmm. Maybe the John Adams series. Yea, probably something between John Adams and the Crucible. Man, it's lame that I need movies so much to visualize historical periods. Typically American and lame. But I'm working on correcting that.
As to Phebe, what were her clothes like? What was her relationship with her husband like? Was she bossy? Or demure? Or both, depending on her mood? Pretty or homely? Or just average? Did she take care with her appearance? Was she religious? Did she like celebrations or find them too much work to really relax? Could she read? And of that whole list of questions, only her clothes could ever possibly be answered.
I think about her walking along King's Highway from her house to the graveyard to visit her children there. It's about a mile. I see her walking it, though. And my heart aches for her. Three children, ages 4 years old, 1 year old and not even one day old died in 1745 and 1746. I want to learn everything I can about Monmouth County and the events of those two years.
Maybe she never went. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she just went once a year, or only on holidays or the sad anniversaries. Maybe she went every day.
The title of today's post refers to the movie the Hangover. Zac Galifanakis plays the brother of the bride Alan. He gives a speech on the roof of their hotel to the guys while at a bachelor party. He talks about how he's always considered himself a "lone wolf." I loved it. I love anyone brave enough to portray social awkwardness truthfully. (There's a special place in my heart for Michael Cera too.)
In any case, I realize since I've moved to this particular town in New Jersey, eight months ago, that I've become a true lone wolf. Maybe I was always like this. I know I was as a child and my mother fought and fought and fought against it. She just doesn't know what to do with introverts. It's mystifying to her. And shameful. I fought it for years and years too and now, I'm trying to accept it. It's ok. If I don't stress out about how it appears to other people, it's not a big deal, really. I like reading. I have my kids. I like working on my house.
And Jesus, I'm depressing myself again. Ahhhh, it's good to get this out, though, right? Right now I can just remember that really no one is noticing me and my lone-wolf status. Next I really need to work on not caring what people think at all, should they stop to think about my life. That's one advantage of being new in a place that's pretty unfriendly - anonymity. Won't last forever. Eventually I'll have to do PTA type stuff. And a big sigh on that.
There are a few people I'm starting to become friends with here. And I have some friends from high school and college I'm still in touch with. One friend from college I correspond with every day, nearly (hey C!) and she's the one who inspired me to start this whole blog in the first place. And maybe I'm not giving the people around me enough of a chance. It has been only 8 months. (Another big sigh)
Oh, and don't forget about my imaginary friend, Phebe. It's always in the back of my mind that I'll find out something that will somehow change how I feel about her, and that's worrying. But I should get over it and forge ahead. I just want to know as much as I can. And I'm choosing to make her someone strong and beautiful and kind. She's my imaginary friend, after all. That's my right. What was I saying the other day about Julie Crazy-Pants? Penelope Crazy-Pants, more like.
S'OK. Lone wolf.