
The week’s notes. Morning. I live on a quiet street although . . . contractors are always working on someone’s home. Today, power saw, power staplers (nailers?) and hammer blows—re-shingling, I think. And there is the sound of traffic from a few streets over. And the garbage men.
I am studying the light in my rooms at various times of the day. My bedroom is very dark at night which is much appreciated. The Madison house, on the corner, had a street light that shined into my bedroom. Julia’s room, less dark here, needs some heavy curtains. I put up blinds for her which help a bit. I don’t like blinds. I used to say I hated blinds, but I’m getting used to them here. I remind myself that this is a rental and will never conform completely to my wishes. Continue reading
The week opened into this new season.
Last week, Julia’s inclusion facilitator (a post previously called “case manager” and hereafter IF) told me that Julia was not put on the bus list in error and if it was possible for me to drive her for the week, she would get the bus this second week of school.
“The deeper that sorrow curves into your being‚ the more joy you can contain.” ~Khalil Gibran (Also, Sr. Francis said something like this to me when I sought her counsel after my first “true love” broke up with me. I have been taught the same lessons over and over.)