Have been working on my unruly fall schedule today. A (probably) once-in-a-lifetime trip to Nice, France, for a week to see my friend Bill Haymes (who spends part of each year there and invites me always). I can do this because Im raveling on frequent flyer miles inherited from my mother. Itll about wipe em out. Much of November in Arkansas, with the 5th Annual Fearless Writing, Ozarks Edition weekend of 14-16. Various short trips related to seeing my ... guy? Sweetheart? Dom? Boyfriend (yeah, at 63?)? Dude? Gentleman friend? Who is not geographically proximate. Sweet unlikeliness, this, at this time in our lives, for which I am grateful to the marrow of my bones. Situationally complex; worth every choreography of arrangement. The perplexity of grieving David and simultaneously in passionate love affair w someone whose challenges mostly parallel mine so uncannily. Meanwhile. I bag the trash to go out. Have to go to Brattleboro, will drop it on the way, as well as bring a book to a neighbor of mine; I think he will enjoy it. Those dear citric yellow finches come and go from the feeder. Mr. Cenate is back, mowing the meadows, which happens once a year, and makes the fields look like a Van Gogh painting. Just love him. Older man, bright blue eyes, native Vermonter, radiates clarity and being at home in himself. David always used to come out and the three of us would have a sweet long neighborly annual talk (weather, state of the fields, how expensive everything is, state of the economy, wifes health), standing near the front door.... This year I had to tell him of Davids death. By spending July in Chinatown, I missed the wild red raspberries and black raspberries... But the blackberries are fruiting now, and they are wonderful. Have a handful every tiume I come back from swimming in the pond. Life life life, you have me again, durn it, you dear complex seductive offering you.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 18:47:06 +0000