More and more, I want to be close to home. I want to cook. I don’t want to drive to the grocery store, and I find myself picking up more at my weekly stops so I don’t have to leave the house. I want a fire in the wood stove. I want to clean the office and put up curtains and hang all the cool artwork Henry and I received as wedding gifts. (Thank you, talented friends!) I want to learn to can. And I’m wishing I’d paid attention when my mom tried to teach me to sew when I was in sixth grade.

Ten flats of green tomatoes are stacked against the wall on my side of the office. At first I complained about the space they were taking up (though it’s minor compared to the chandeliers, Christmas lights, and other wedding items we have yet to give away, sell, or store); but now I like knowing that I can eat a tomato anytime I want. The Valle Encantado farm crew sells them as they ripen, but our family gets to pick what we like. There’s something decadent about eating a fresh, organic tomato, grown within blocks of my house even as the temperature drops and smoke rises from our chimney.

This is a time of looking up to follow the call of sandhill cranes, of brisk walks with P. and K. to the park at the end of our street, of cooking soup, and drinking hot tea. It is also a time of late rehearsals, a lingering sore throat, and the return of the heat rash I thought I had eradicated before the wedding. But more on that next week.

I have spent the last several days with a short story I started over a year ago. I had completed the story enough to give it a beginning, middle, and end, but not the beginning, middle, and end the story deserves. So I returned to the casita and wrote another draft—26 pages, 8,413 words. It feels good to be back in this space, dedicating an hour or two a day to writing, building up the muscle I lost those weeks and months of checking off the endless tasks listed in my wedding journal.

I’ve had a hard time keeping up with the blog the last several weeks. Thank you, reader, for your patience. I am here, nesting.

Published in: on November 17, 2011 at 4:48 pm  Comments (4)  

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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Your blogs are always worth the wait. Love you.

  2. Enjoy the time, Amiga. I get two week breaks after every 9 weeks of teaching and I cherish the power to set my own schedule and do the things I love. A good friend of mine talks about creating temporary autonomous zones in the classroom where students and teacher are free from state intrusions into the curriculum. I see my breaks as a time where I get to simulate an anarchist way of being where I am creating for myself based on my interests.

    So, welcome to anarchism and enjoy your autonomous zone.

    • Gracias, Ray. Mil gracias for the insight. I hadn’t thought of it that way. This weekend I plan to hike and then bake pumpkin cookies in my autonomous zone.

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