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cait and me
the101dmnations wrote in thatyouenter
Took a quiet afternoon, thinking to write, read Robert Duncan (the primeval man 'ravening toward such rest / a diamond has in structure'), stare out the window. Spent it tidying instead, cleaning out my inbox to Buddy Holly, writing this for you, our dear invisible friends. Here are picture stories from the last month, word stories from the last few days.



Family here, beloved friends coming and going.

The other afternoon, on an island, Finn fritzy and overstimulated and sleeping only up against one of our bodies, Cait and I walked in the woods. I told him, I hope this land is going to be your home like it was mine, indicating to him (he was asleep) the lichen-channeled fir and alders, fiddleheads, benign-looking ubiquitous nettles ('you get over the burn'), robins, the sleepy syrup light over all of it, and maybe, by extension, the pent impassive unseen presences of the Olympics.

Out there I wished I knew bird calls: pweetle-eetle-eetle, distress or joy, eagle-out or I-am-here gusto? And local flora, and the other islands by sight... Does anyone else imagine that further general knowledge would ground their lives in some way, let them look more deeply, longer, slower at the world?

Three-hour-long six-vehicle trip back, he was the best part of it!

We're having laugh conversations now with him: he has this way of throwing his fists up over his head when he's too happy to do anything else and making this wild choking exhilarated little string of sounds.

Today: "When you're choosing between what's urgent and what's important, choose what's important first." But even as I type this, some quadrant of me thinks: Laundry? Weather forecast? Medical paperwork? Internet bill? Another cup of coffee?

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