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| "remember: 1917- russian revolution. 2 + 2 =5. some people are more in love than everyone else." -erik michelangelo. | | |
| i won't be heading back to st louis any time soon. i'm taking rolling hills, corn stalks, soy fields, buildings only two stories high, and my baby by my side.
erik took a teaching job (woo!) at triopia high school which is outside jacksonville, illinois, so i will be going there soon too, as soon as those pieces fall into place. so, it's farewell to crane street, where i've made some of my best memories spending time with erik and sj and my best friends-- alli, gregor, jack, and so so many others-- just sitting on the front porch, or looking at the e'ville treasures in the dining room, or having erik read to me in the basement, or raiding sj's kitchen cabinet for drinks, but mostly pulling up extra chairs to fit everyone into the living room just to talk and laugh and share stories for hours on end. i'll miss it.
it's crazy how life can change. erik didn't even apply for this job... the *edit: principal* (erik is a grammar turd) called him out of the blue, and so here he is, moving to jacksonville on monday... starting teaching on friday... it's just all happening so fast, and even though it's not even my own life, i'm having to try hard to catch my breath. it's so many things at once... sad, refreshing, wonderful, lovely, frightening... all of these simultaneosly, but none by itself for more than a moment. one overarching feeling and knowing, is that i am so blessed to have erik. i couldn't ask for anyone more perfect for me in every way. i am excited to see how this next part of life changes us into something more than we are now.
i am just so glad.




also, bananal and todd are engaged!

i'm very happy about the new addition to the family.
things are pretty good, pretty good.
it's a whirlwind we are being caught up in, but soon it will be sweet and fragrant, still, fall air-- my favorite--that surrounds us and kindles something indescribable inside of us. and this autumn will be the best yet.
make sure you stop by crane street this weekend, and say bye bye to erik. i know he will want you to.
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| I saw Jesus at the bowling alley, slinging nothing but gutter balls. He said, "You've gotta love a hobby that allows ugly shoes." He lit a cigarette and bought me a beer. So I invited him to dinner.
I knew the Lord couldn't see my house in its current condition, so I gave it an out of season spring cleaning. What to serve for dinner? Fish—the logical choice, but after 2000 years, he must grow weary of everyone's favorite seafood dishes. I thought of my Granny's ham with Coca Cola glaze, but you can't serve that to a Jewish boy. Likewise pizza—all my favorite toppings involve pork.
In the end, I made us an all-dessert buffet. We played Scrabble and Uno and Yahtzee and listened to Bill Monroe. Jesus has a healthy appetite for sweets, I'm happy to report. He told strange stories which I've puzzled over for days now.
We've got an appointment for golf on Wednesday. Ordinarily I don't play, and certainly not in this humidity. But the Lord says he knows a grand miniature golf course with fiberglass mermaids and working windmills and the best homemade ice cream you ever tasted. Sounds like Heaven to me.
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| i wonder, do they still make love to their wives, kissing the undersides of their wrists, dancing the old soft-shoe of desire? and on the long walk home from the vfw, do they still sing to the drunken moon? [from the poem, 'old men playing basketball'.] | | |
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