Alma de Color

     I am somewhat resigning myself to being a gypsy the rest of my life.  My friend Laurie told me today that she thinks I'm destined to become a professional house-sitter, since I never stay long enough in my own house to count.  When my brother and his family moved in with me nine months ago, it was nice to not have to come home to an empty home full of broken dreams.  But by the end of summer, and beginning of another school year, I needed some more space and different sleep schedule to function for my job, so I moved in with a coworker in Frenchtown for almost four months.  And then, the plan was to move back into my own place...but that plan vanished like plans A-P always do in Honduras.  Another friend needed someone to housesit and care for her dogs and horse for her over break, and then perhaps until her house sells after the first of the year.  So, I moved out and in yesterday.  Today, I got up leisurely around 8:30 or so, late...

Wow.  Don't really even know what to say at this point.  I feel pretty bereft of poetic thoughts and feelings.  Just sort of empty, yet overflowing.  I realize that paradox doesn't make any sense.  But I suppose that's how life is sometimes--we can't make sense of things all the time.  I certainly can't make sense of my life right now.  I don't know how to encapsulate the time left undocumented in anything that would make sense to the reader.  So, I'll stick to weather-like topics. I had to leave my husband again for an unknown length of time to return to a job and a house contract here in the States.  I can always look back and think that I ought to have done some more research, taken more time, chosen a different process...but I have the here and now to deal with, so I guess I will tuck my shouldas, wouldas, and couldas away for a rainy day when perhaps I can share my life experiences with others in a similar season. I am still working at...