Ah, but I diverge... This morning I wrote by hand a four page letter to him, filling him in on my life and thanking him for being part of mind. It is such a supreme feeling to still be in touch with this man, to know that he thinks of me now and again as I do him. He is married now. I've never met his wife though he visited me here on the farm from time to time. He got to know my children and met my husband. I believe it lasted about five years and then at the age of 51 I took off for California with some old friends in a white mini-van. But that's a story for another day. In fact, I've chronicled that somewhere, really should put it up on the net somewhere, though I'd still hang onto the collaged chronicle of that trip out West.
Its been a rather dreary week and so the package was even more precious to me. Nearly birthday number 67.. the other day my daughters told me I ought to start thinking of myself as 70. I was like.. NO.. don't push me into the next decade, I'll get there fast enough.
Reading a so so book about an apocalyptic scenario .. the rotation of the Earth slows down and things get very weird.. I'm nearly through with it and not nearly as impressed as I somehow wanted to be. I've never been fond of coming of age stories, not matter what the setting... The book is "the age of miracles" by Karen Thompson Walker. Now that I think about it the action in the book is slow, maybe that's the point of the whole thing? but I keep happening for something to happen, a bit of action. It is, however, this author's first novel so not bad for a debut. The novel takes place in California and there is a bust of some "old" hippies for growing marijuana. This even seemed weird as California does have some legal growers now I think.
Tomorrow is the eve of my birthday and my four daughters plus my 28 yr old granddaughter are going to a great eating place about 30 miles from where we live, taking no males and no children. I think we will have a really good time.
surely love is the answer, if it isn't then we are so fucked