I am a woman that likes people. I’m pretty social but I’m shy about certain things. I can be braggadocios about some things and very mum on others. Sometimes I’m bigger than life, but probably the truest aspect of me is when I’m home alone, playing with the dogs and pondering my next move. That’s the woman who feels things very deeply. I’m not unique, we all have our inner moments where we find our balance.

And then I go google something innane like Zombie Chickens to amuse myself.

I realized that over the years, because I have a nontraditional family, that I have created my own tribe. What I mean by this is, that sometimes you just hang out with folks, and then there are other times you realize that you have built a tribe of people around you that gets you even when you don’t get yourself.

Last night in Hoots, I had that sense of building new relationships, ones that I honestly enjoy. And this morning, there was a gentleness in my home of a bit of fear about what’s going to happen next and that, for the time being, enjoying the people around me who were laughing, talking of mundane things like dinner and when Pinks’ puppies will arrive. We made a bet for bragging rights on how many she will have. I went with 7, Squirrel Queen with 6, Squeegee Monkey took 8 and Homer was just ready for them to get here because Pinks is miserable.

Of course, Homer was the only person in the room who had ever given birth so I adhere to her mother goddess who knows these things.

We laughed over Homer’s obsession with always having chapstick within arm’s length, of how IPods have given us a much-needed soundtrack for our daily lives and how Squirrel Queen really is the only person we know that can sew buttons on a shirt without it becoming a disaster. We talked about the 50 flamingos in Rep. Mark Maddox’s yard which is in our neighborhood and how when we see him out, how we are going to tease him as he hit the half-century mark last week. Homer patted her oldest daughter’s hair in a way that only a mother can do. She really didn’t even know she was doing it.

Glimpses. Moments. Part of our lives that are here and gone.

Our tribe of family is strong. Our tribe of friends is necessary and important. How we can say what we want and be ourselves, no matter how nuts we can be at times. We require nothing from each other but respect and appreciation and an unsaid understanding that we are, in essence, understood without judgment.

We talked of trains with a new friend last night. I wondered this morning if a hobo could travel with a computer on a train. I wondered if hobos even exist anymore.

I imagine they do.

My tribe understands that I will look up zombie chickens, ponder about hobos and smile at 50  birthday flamingos.

They know these things and I am in their tribe as well.

Random thoughts on a gray Sunday.