na foine ting
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Soon I'll be a mom again. Like probably this week, soon.
Bec's been making a scrapbook of all the stuff from Gavin's babyhood, and doing a gorgeous job of it. It seems like a nice thing to do, while she waits for the other kid to come around and make his or her debut.
I've been reading all the stuff I wrote back then, about the process. Poetry and essays, just a general lot of stuff. Pondering why there's less this time, if I've really gotten that blase.
I don't think so, though. I think there's just a lot less speculating. A lot more "hurry up and get here."
I have a feeling the writing will come when the baby's here, and there will be so much to express, to tell.
I read this last night between bites of Safeway sushi and adored it. I love White's essays anyway, but this one's a real gem.
I put my turnouts in the car to return to the fire department, last week. Then I found a reason to take them back out again. I've mentioned testing a few times recently. Hoping someone will talk me out of it.
Tomorrow I'm officially too old for federal law enforcement, all agencies. USSS, CIA, FBI.
It's the end of an era.
I'm sad, in some ways. But mostly, it's a relief.
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