I'm not dead, though if I were I'd like to think I'd have more time for things like maintaining a blog. Different calendar, different clock. Truthfully, after fall semester started and with a new job I haven't even had time for wool gathering. Piles and piles of wool waiting to be gathered, getting matted into felt, full and fuller.

We got a dog too, August, right at the end of August. The Rice country humane society chose her name and we were disinclined to change it. And yes, despite the name, she's a she. Nice, silly and time hungry dog. Sheds a great deal

Suddenly with the semester break and my kitchen floor is actually mopped, there are clean sheets on the bed and even the tub might lose its soap scum patina this afternoon.

I miss good food. Never eaten so shitty for so long in my life. Right now I wish I could eat wood, this tree down in my yard. Three hundred dollars before Christmas to have it taken off the neighbors fence and I passed on the fees for cutting, chipping, hauling. Just down and a lot of wood. How strange a thing that a tree, for many millions of years, a normal entity with integrity--an expected, even desired part of the landscape--suddenly, because of a fence being built under it and cables strung beneath it, a tree becomes a nemesis, a pest, an impediment, an expensive reminder of entropy. It was an ash tree, badly rotted at the heart of its base, but full of wet wet heavy green wood above. Half is still standing, and must come down--one can see light through the curtain of xylem on which it balances. Unfortunately, the my and my neighbor's power lines have to be dropped for those good times and they aren't able to come out till after Christmas. And when, that will be another five hundred, plus tax. I seriously need to find a way to make more money.

Not saying much am I? But not dead, though a lazy, non-posting, bad webizen. May soon think of things to share and find pretty words to hang on them. Of course, anyone is welcome to poke me with a stick (email), to see if I'm just sleeping.
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