Bonnie and Clyde

Let’s be the Bonnie and Clyde of authors—

Would that be Bukowski and Sylvia Plath?

Or maybe Hemingway and Virginia Woolfe?

But I’m the orphaned love-child of Bukowski and Plath,

A seed planted in the Bell jar that stood beside the bed

Covered in tangled sheets and sweaty limbs,

Grinding groins and panted meter.

So I guess
we
can’t be them…
because I already am.

Long dark shadow

Life is beautiful
But sometimes,
the long dark shadow that follows me
sweeps around and kicks me—
hard
—in the chest.
And for a little while,
I can’t breathe
(but I do),
And I am filled with the cold
That comes from the toes
Of that dark shadowy beast,
Still lodged in my chest.
I push away,
Push at my Love,
Accusing him of causing this
dark
shadow.
And then
He melts through my lightly icy
Walls of defense,
standing steady and solid,
Warm and unflappable beside me,
Until I sigh and lean into him,
Smiling sheepishly.
And, wordlessly,
I acknowledge
that the long
Dark
Shadow
Sprouts from within
…Me.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig....

Because apparently
Iowa
is home.
For now.

Yup, still in denial! :)

I spent 6 weeks traveling, which is swell,
but just sort of left me feeling more topsy turvy than ever.
Definitely made me crave coming "home,"
which felt good because I need to start considering this home.
I just don't.
And probably never will.
Which is also ok.
No hard feelings, Iowa.
Nothing personal, Midwesterners.
I'll never hate this place like I hated Utah (though I miss it now, for the wonderful chunk of family that I leave there),
and I'll never love anywhere like I love Maine.
It is nice here, pleasant.
I just want to be in Maine.
Duh...are we surprised??
This little housewife has always whined about going Home.

So, apologies.

I had a lovely time in Florida, then flew to Maine where I fell into the river of my sister's vacation and enjoyed the time with her very much, then drove to Utah (4 days in the car with my Mom, and we never ran out of stuff to jabber on about), where I spent some quality time with family and reunited with my kiddos.
That had to be written as one sentence because it felt like a long one...
I didn't really have control of anything on the majority of my trip, which was kind of hard...
but I tried to just let go and enjoy it.
I generally succeeded, but it is nice to be home again, and Master of my own fate again.

It is.
So. Hot.
Here.
It makes me want to stay inside
stay inside
stay
inside.
Grateful for air conditioning
and ice cream.
Grateful for my Love.
Grateful.

Hobbies...

I'm still in Iowa,
for anyone out there keeping score.
I've taken on a hobby--
going to job interviews
just for someone to talk to...
Then turning down the jobs
because they suck.

Lots of travel plans to sort out for the summer...
Nothing set in stone, but I'll keep y'all posted.
Yeah, I just said, "Y'all."
I regret it.

Life is good.

Feels like summer, summertime....

But we still have a few weeks of school left.
Sooooo hot today and yesterday.
Today?
Lake.
With a few great friends from growing up.
Lots of chatting and laughing.
It made me so happy.
It made me want to do that every week.
It was beautiful there...
and I clocked it; only 11 minutes from my house.
Not
too
shabby.
And while we were there,
The Love texted to say he stumbled upon a writing opportunity for me.
That man is my lucky charm.

Then home to gather children and prep dinner and off to a neverending baseball game.
I am so sleepy from the sun and warmth....
it was a good day.

So hot.
And so hungry before dinner that now dinner sits angrily in my belly.
Shouting up at me for making it wait so long.
Sorry, egg rolls.
You know I love making you almost as much as I love eating you...
it was out of my hands...the innings crawled by as the sun refused to set, until finally they both crashed to a close at once.

Maine is not for sissies.

With pretty words echoing in my mind...

The lilting, clear voice of a friend's daughter
singing a John Denver classic.
I find the words an apt accompaniment to my presence here.
Except I don't live in West Virginia...ha.
I think I drove through part of it once, on the way from Pittsburgh to a hidden corner of Maryland.
Anyway....the point is that country roads do take me home, every day I'm here, living in the quiet, curvy land at the end of the earth.

I am finally at peace, and for a long time that has meant my desire to write was dormant, ignored, unnecessary.
Spring is midway through springing upon us, and it is causing creativity and desire to surge through my veins.
Desire for sleep, that is.
The pollen gums up my eyes and I fight of a cold or allergies that feel very allergenic, but my mind is vibrant like a whole box full of half-used tubes of acrylic paints and that is why I think it is not allergies, allergies which clog the arteries of my cerebral cortex, allergies which deaden the synapses which connect the pathways of my grey lumpy mass of intercranial coral.
Oh, "intercranial" isn't a word, blogger? Tsk-tsk.

The ponds and lakes are melting so fast it makes me doubt that it was February mere days ago.