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Tuesday Morning

Hunching, hunching little boy hiding pebbles in the attic - treasures nobody would want - later he would bring notes written in a language no one could ever read and leave them there, tribute - later still he would learn others, far away, had done things much the same as he - proof he felt of his own prowess - clearly  he was always magic

Fast hot words led to a fist in the nose - down he went like a sack of potatoes off a wagon - fuss and flurry and no more school - every unpleasantry meant a faint, soft bed, comforting coos - that lesson learned quickly - consequences unexpected; who would pay for a man grown out of a boy like that - he sets the fainting aside, embracing the will and neurosis as his stock in trade

Monday Morning

Nadia's off for a day long trip to Great Escape theme park; it's a reward for all the middle school kids who made honor roll/high honor roll all year long. She's promised a friend she'll ride on a roller coaster - I'll be curious if that really happens. Harmony picked up her graduation cap for decorating purposes. Tim's helping a friend sand and paint an old iron fence - great job for the hottest day of the year, that paint will dry before bugs even have a chance to land in it. And I've so much work to do and no desire to do it -- typical Monday but we've got to keep the lights on somehow.

Onward, upward, forward!

Wednesday Morning

Sometimes I tell people how I'm failing; very often I hear back about all the work I do and how that's not failing. It's rather like being complimented on your form while you're drowning. There's such a distance between what I'm doing and what I want to do. The only way to remedy this is to do the work I want to do. Understanding that doesn't mean immediate money most likely, and that's problematic, as this family of mine requires a fairly steady stream of immediate money.

But this family of mine is also growing up. Harmony is graduating. I'm not sure exactly how we transition her into her supporting herself rather than us supporting her - I want it to be much less abrupt and scary than what I went through myself - but I do know that there will be a transition. Nadia's starting high school, and those four years pass in the blink of an eye. I'm sure there will be a transition phase there as well. What these changes will look like I don't know; I will never stop working but I feel like the consequences of having one really bad day or even week will be somewhat less.

Hee. My Facebook just kicked up the news that my best friend from high school, a woman I lived with for a time, had a baby last night. Here I am looking at the end of one life phase and she's embarking on it. What's funny about that is part of what I envy about her is how she's been able to do many of the things I haven't done, because family. Maybe we all go through certain phases, just at different times. Maybe we all get what we need in the end. I hope so. That would be nice.

Monday Morning

Some people are real and some people are not. Some people are only real by association; they matter if we know them, or we know someone who does, or we look like them. Solidarity is situational. I am boggled by all the people who have the solutions to things like Orlando at their fingertips; they tell me if only an armed trained professional had been in the club, none of this would have happened, ignoring the fact that there was an armed trained professional in the club and this absolutely happened. I'm aghast that people I know can go immediately from hearing about an epic tragedy to a four color rant about how the president had better not come for their guns;  not even a breath for mourning. Who are you people? Have you always been this full of hate?

Friday Morning

I dreamed about a taxidermy lion, huge fierce and posed to pounce, and two taxidermy gazelles, one haughty and one afraid; they were brought to me by someone who knew they'd please me even though pragmatically, logistically there was no place/need for three large African taxidermy animals - woke from this strangely shaken; it was an intensely real dream and I was surprised by the lack of lions in my living room.

Tuesday Morning

Raw -

Love is independent of quality. You can be passionate about what you're doing, all in, heart and soul, and still have the results be very not good. Loving something doesn't give you skills; loving something doesn't grant abilities, understanding, education - all of these things require work, and you may be willing to do the work because of your love - love is a great motivator, sometimes the only motivator one has, but anything worth doing requires so much more than love

Monday Morning

My favorite lie I tell myself is "Someday I'll be organized." Someday I will go through these boxes and boxes of notebooks, full of story fragments and interview notes and bits of captured conversation and transform them into finished, money making things. This is my retirement savings, I tell myself. The work I will do when I don't have work to do. And perhaps its true, although I'm beginning to suspect it's not. I'm beginning to think that the next phase will have entirely new work demanding to be done and all of these things that have been relegated to wait will have to wait just that much longer.

Friday Morning

So it's been about five years since we stopped dealing with some family members; out of the blue, one of the youngest - a man I held in  my arms when he was a baby - showed up just to see how things have been. The stories he tells are full of death; one gone to diabetes, another pair suicides, brains blown right out. Them that are left aren't doing all that well. One is depressed and letting his life fall further into ruin; another's taking nitro by the half-dozen. Not said but implied is that we're welcome to swim back toward the sinking ship.

I've fallen for this once before. But I am not the woman now that I was then; I will not yield such hard won peace. The world turns as it will whether I want it or no, so I might as well do what I want, and what I want is to be happy and healthy and strong.

Thursday Morning

Tim was cooking sausages on the grill and I was working when we heard the beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep. And our lives are so electronic; this could have been anything, but it wasn't; it was a smoke detector, and it wasn't ours. Outside, sound is different; I walk to my neighbor's driveway but it is uncertain. I turn back to look and see a handful of neighbors in their driveways, watching. "Do you hear that?" I ask; one says "Yes, it's coming from that house." And I knock, and remember that my neighbor is quite aged, and I open the porch door, and through the glass on the next window, see way more smoke than I should, and I open the next door, not even thinking about knocking, and call out her name, "Are you all right?" She is pulling a heavily smoking pan off the stove with a silver fork and then greets me with a too-bright smile; everything's fine, the steak just smoked up, that's all."Just checking, that's all," I said. "I wanted to be sure you're all right." I retreated, letting the neighbors know she said everything is fine, telling Tim the same.

Tuesday Morning

So there's the fire fighter shirt, from the parade on Sunday -  I only wound up with two pictures of me, and the other one I'm wearing sunglasses, so here you go. Also, I'm wearing my pencil socks, which are my favorite.

The kids have an extended break since they didn't use their snow days. At least it's actually a beautiful day - we're going to go over to the river later to stick our toes in the water and decide maybe we're not all that warm after all.

So much to do, so this is short - will write properly tomorrow.