America, I love you. But doggone you keep me so busy: house, yard, taxes, cars, plumber, tile guy, yard guy, banking, mail. Doctor appointments, cleaning… shopping, shopping, shopping to fill boxes, boxes, boxes.
And the weird stuff: Hilary Clinton’s signature on my (our) marriage license. The bathroom that caves in, ant home invasion, tree funeral.
It isn’t all toil: happy hour. Arabic tutor. My piano, garden, gym. Garrison Keillor, Shrek-the-Musical, family time, soccer match, Hunger Games, Billy’s house, robins nesting in my downspout and… babies.
(Pause for heart swelling toenail curling squeezy cheesy absorbing encompassing love-dote-adoring…)
It’s been grand, America. But it’s time (again).
First…a pause in Pennsylvania (Eileen Spinelli! Highlights for Children!), Buffalo break (KATIE!!), DC layover (MARYANN!!).
Then: back to the beach, my writing table, Corniche, Fanar. Four hour loads of laundry, chewable dust, blistering sun. Boiling water and burning sand.
Back to the hot…and the hottie: