Monday on the holiday trail:
It all began when I didn’t have a job for six months – when ain’t it a holiday? – and this ongoing sense of my mind cracking open a smidge on the way to the little library, to donate these:
the Crais (way fave author) I finished Sunday, Stephen King and Jack Kerouac duplicates of copies I continue to own/cherish, the other a lesbian fairy tale I scooped from another tiny library months ago and likely wasn’t going to get to. Still, so cool.
Earlier dropping some fun, goofy, all filled up with love things at the closed post office mail box. Lengthy morning walk, then the Camry to Starbucks, blasting The Pixies forth and back. My art all colorful and giggly on the coffee shop wall.
Late last Saturday afternoon I set out on a long walk, with a destination, and had a lovely, fun telephone conversation with my son Cameron along the way. I remember my good friend Mike in New Jersey telling me once he accepted a job – as a teacher, after four long full-on devoted years at Portland State University – an hour away from his new Garden State home with wife and daughter because the commute would give him lots of time to connect by tele with friends. It was like that, Cameron and me.
This was my destination late Saturday afternoon. I walk there often, there’s a feeling of ‘home’ when I stop and dawdle a bit:
Reporting from the holiday…
from a mountain bench 
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