Living out here has transformed my social batter from a D to a AAA. The timing of that transformation could have been better as now, on the eve of this next stage, we’re busy with friends. I went into Burlington to photograph the Bread & Puppet show, then a very old friend visited this morning before we went to dinner with other friends, newer ones.
Tomorrow we have other, slightly older than the latter but newer than the former friends visiting, and my mom, too, to stack wood. Back to Burlington Monday, Abby’s visiting Flea on Wednesday, and her sister’s coming too, a few days before her mom.
Now that there’s something like a time-limit to hanging out our calendars are filling up. It feels nice, I’ve just spent the past year training for solitude. I suppose I’ll get plenty of that, just in a particular flavor.
At dinner we talked about the importance of parenthood. As I listened to our friend tell us the story of her daughter’s birth and the trials and tribulations and beauty and odyssey of the two years after it, I made me reflect on other stories. I thought about people telling me about dreams, or vacations, or fancy dinners, or new jobs, or art, or relationships, or...anything. The truth is no story can really stack up to the unfathomable human drama that is birth and life and progeny.
If a friend told me about an out and out miracle they had witnessed it might measure up. That’s becuase that’s what birth is: a miracle. I say this purely out of speculation. The miraculousness of it is clear as crystal to me simply through the view of my minds eye.
Imagine how I’ll feel as Abby’s giving birth?
Tomorrow we have other, slightly older than the latter but newer than the former friends visiting, and my mom, too, to stack wood. Back to Burlington Monday, Abby’s visiting Flea on Wednesday, and her sister’s coming too, a few days before her mom.
Now that there’s something like a time-limit to hanging out our calendars are filling up. It feels nice, I’ve just spent the past year training for solitude. I suppose I’ll get plenty of that, just in a particular flavor.
At dinner we talked about the importance of parenthood. As I listened to our friend tell us the story of her daughter’s birth and the trials and tribulations and beauty and odyssey of the two years after it, I made me reflect on other stories. I thought about people telling me about dreams, or vacations, or fancy dinners, or new jobs, or art, or relationships, or...anything. The truth is no story can really stack up to the unfathomable human drama that is birth and life and progeny.
If a friend told me about an out and out miracle they had witnessed it might measure up. That’s becuase that’s what birth is: a miracle. I say this purely out of speculation. The miraculousness of it is clear as crystal to me simply through the view of my minds eye.
Imagine how I’ll feel as Abby’s giving birth?