MY PEOPLE. I am sorry. I have been slacking. Let the tears dry upon your cheeks, sweet readers. Here, for your faces, are more exceedingly tiny things.
Alright, enough of this sentimental fluffle. Time for some plans.
Amanda picked me up last week from where the IAT crosses into Canada, where I was sitting, damp from the morning’s grey drizzle; making friends with folks in US Customs and Immigration…
“I will feed your face, like I feed your soul.” -just quoted at me by Amanda-my-new-blood-sister
Hum very well. I will tell you some more things!
Dearest, darlingest family and popsicles,
Here we are again.
Me, writing to you in my journal and eating cinnamon toast. You, doing heaven knows what, and reading this.
Yay, the IAT in Maine is so wonderful
It’s 11:30pm. Way past bedtime, but I’m packing my things for tomorrow: I’ll start wending my way north from here in Connecticut early tomorrow morning. It is good to be healing, and staph free.
So this is a horrible way to get into what has truly been a delightful (more or less) span of time since I last wrote you. Ok…. So maybe I ended up in the ER.
You might sit down. There’s a story behind every name, yours and mine; and here’s a part of it I think you ought to know.
Smallest brotherski and I have spent a lot of time recently contemplating the rain. You may or may not have heard of tropical storm Cindy. We had the great luck of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and feeling Cindy while…