The Library

I moved into my new home last year. In August. Or was it September?

And it is a nice home. I enjoy it. There is a small kitchen, one bathroom, and three bedrooms.

Of course, one bedroom is to sleep in. The other bedroom is for Chris to use as his office.

and then the third. The third bedroom has remained as a place to stick other things. All the unfinished things, not yet ‘away.’

It is the junk room.

But no more. I cleaned it out. I cleared the floor. I found a place to put things away. Even if it was just the garage. It has a corner vanity, where I keep my jewelry. I have a lot of it, you know. But there is a coffee table, which holds my laptop and the cat, much of the time. There is also a comfortable armchair, pulled close to the spot for the laptop. The cat is in this the rest of the time. And a few blank places along the wall. But I ordered bookshelves for them. By next week, it will be the


and not a bad one. It makes me happy to sit in it.

HOORAY! No more junk room! I posses all of my home now!


Friends, I apologize. My ISP screwed up the site, and it was down for several days. It’s up now, and there should be no more of the ridiculous password nonsense.


I knew it was coming. It was waiting for me when I got home.

I picked it up. I had to find a knife to open it. But I had to pace around is an addled way first.

I found a knife. I sat on the couch. Chris sat with me.

I slit the tape, but I had to stop. I held it a moment longer. Then I opened it all the way.

I held it. It rested in my hands. I turned it over. Chris touched my shoulder.

Only a few moments more. I couldn’t breathe.

I put it away.

I paced around the house in my addled way again.

I knew the next day at work would be long.

It was. But I didn’t forget about it.

It was waiting for me when I got home.

This time, I remembered to breathe when I held it. I flipped the pages.

I smelled it. It smelled subtley wonderful. I know the smell will mellow nicely.

I walked around addled some more, but this time I was holding it.

Then, I sat down to read it.

It was bound. It was a book. It was mine.

It felt like a book. When I read it, it had pages with numbers. I turned them, and I read it again like I wanted to know what happened.

I got about 20 pages in before I stopped myself, laughing. Of course, I already know what happened.

I wrote it.

They call it a slippery slope because it’s easier to go down than up

So Chris and I went to the Grand Canyon this weekend. It was a good getaway

This became my fourth visit to the spot. It is beautiful and amazing. I look at it, and two things amaze me.

First, that this happened. How did this big canyon happen? The river ran through the rock and wore it away. But that didn’t happen anywhere else. There are no other huge canyons like it anywhere.

It is vast and astonishing. But the water was only doing what was in it’s nature. And the rock was just doing what was it’s nature. Makes me want to consider the nature of the other things I encounter.

Second, that it is a long way down and I want to see it. I wonder if I will ever manage to get there. I want to try. Chris says he will maybe try with me. That it is a good goal.

He talked me into trying to climb Mt. Whitney. That was a sort of conquering thing, “I AM KING OF THE HILL!”

But the Grand Canyon is down. It is not conqueroring. It is exploring. I personally want to see what it looks like down there. We’ll see if I ever make it.

perhaps the back cover is even more important than the insides

I am done with the first step of getting my novelette ready to publish. But I am having trouble with the back cover.

I remember in an English class, the one on theory, where my teacher said that we seldom read ANYTHING that we don’t know anything about.

We always have some idea of what to expect. It is packaged in some way, or has something on the cover that tells us how we are supposed to read it

poems are
written in separate lines
so that

We know to take them
seriously and soberly
as we read

and then there are all kinds of other conventions. A whole language before you even get to the language. Is it bound in cardboard or on a spiral coil? How does the paper feel/ Are there colors?

These are all things I am having to take into consideration. It’s pretty exciting.