Mid-week Missive Full of Nothing Much

*photo attribution below

We live near a fire station (amongst other things) and many, many dogs. Right now the sirens are wailing and the neighborhood dogs have begun their empathetic opera of howls. It cracks me up every time it happens. It feels like we're living inside the movie 101 Dalmations when the dogs of the countryside raise their snouts and call to the dogs of London to pass along the location of the puppies.

At any rate, my pups are all at school today. This seems to be the exception rather than the rule. One pup after another has had one virus after another. As there is no back-up for the mother, I have not written as much lately as I might have. But by my count I have seven new drafts since school started, which feels good. Last week was a good week for revision. This week I have grabbed hold of kronos whenever possible, and "played" in my notebook. This has freed me in some way that I can't quite articulate. I have felt freer to write several different drafts of the same poem, rather than feeling attached to a particular, hard won (in terms of time) draft.

I am starting to put some feelers out into the Bay Area literary community. This has taken the form of sending e-mails to people I don't know at all. While I know some people who do this easily, it has required me to screw my courage to the sticking-place. I'm shy. But I've had encouraging responses, and I'm hopeful that they'll lead to some sort of writing community over the long haul.

Many folks have been asking how we're doing in California. I never know quite what to say, but here are some of the responses that go through my head:

1. Same routine, different place. It can be very comforting to have kids because their needs keep you focused and busy. In many way our family life is very similar to what it was in South-of-the-River.
2. What's not to love? -- great weather, no mortgage, and we don't have to mow the lawn.
3. Pass your millage election or levy referendum or whatever the school funding election is called where you live. I have seen the future and it's not fair. Also, while you're at it, fall on your knees and give thanks for the School Bus (no bussing in California!).
4. I miss my friends.
5. I miss my mom and dad (not that they lived in South-of-the-River, but they were able to visit often because the distance was drive-able).
6. I've pulled a few successful u-turns.
7. I don't know.... I feel like we're some of the luckiest people alive no matter where we are: enough to eat, a roof over our heads, access to education and health care.

So, we are doing fine. It's not without its challenges and it's sometimes a bit lonely (probably mostly for me) but we're doing fine. Thanks to all who have wondered and sent good wishes.

And now, I'm off to dash across town to pick up Sister from school, and then dash back across town to get home in time for the boys' dismissal (O, school bus, O yellow magic carpet ride, how I miss you!).


*Photo by Firefighter Dayna Hilton (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons