Monday, November 05, 2007


Today: first snow, whipping down. I thought I could see the wind, the way a cartoon or a piece of art might indicate wind.

Today: reading a short story in Best American Short Stories of 2007 on plagiarism the day I conference with a boy and his father. The way dishonesty sinks into our skin, the way a second chance is forgiving.

Today: news that my grandfather will not likely remain in the assisted living home he'd moved to at the beginning of this month. Behavior that doesn't sound remotely like the pipe smoking man of my childhood, the quiet man who told stories of Muncie, the local football team, would take us for a tour around the lake in his pontoon boat. Words that I don't even say anymore emitting from his lips, the cruel sound of an alarm nine times in the night. Not just packing a suitcase and sad, patient waiting, but forceful movement through the halls, pushing to get out. Would he know where he was if he was able to leave? Where would he go if the door opened for him?

Tomorrow: a hundred and forty cupcakes. How does one transport so much sugar?

Tomorrow: routine dental appointment. I haven't flossed in a while; I hope I am not shamed again.

And in two days: I become the exact age my mother was when she had me.

No comments: