And on to hold longer than I meant to leave you; your call is very important to us and I mean that in a way they never will do.

There’s been this hurricano of June with all and everything betwixt.

Suddenly, there is at last a new normal. It’s nowhere near as pretty as I’d dreamed. Rough, unwatered, crowded. But it is mine. A reality apart, sometimes fading into reverse, a new screen door on the one hand and kitten-shredded blinds on the other, as if the thousand boxes fell on me and I am digging myself out bruised–yet self-possessed.

I pushed across a little laundry out there where we slept, and paired it with a found box of the right clothes folded and ready.

One little nondescript piece at a time.