I've been home for nine days.
It was grand to go.
It's good to be back.
I've been terrible about writing you.
Life has been life here lately-
I'm sure you know what I mean.
I returned to a flood out back-
septic tank issues that I knew had begun
but that rapidly escalated whilst I was in Houston and Keith was in Boston.
It's not truly the septic tank,
but the leach field.
The leach field that is not.
Seems instead of the standard 300 feet of pipe,
we have a long, winding trough of buried styrofoam packing peanuts.
Yes, you read that correctly.
I know this because when we dug a hole in the swampland
that has become my back property,
they began floating up to my boots out of earth and a thin mesh.
All black and grungy,
having been covered up for who knows how long
and soaking in all the gray water from the showers,
the sinks, the dishwasher and washing machine.
But at least it's not sewage.
Certainly not a crisis-
more a pain than anything.
Lots of estimates on repairs.
Lots of time on the phone.
Lots of trying to track down who built this house and
who the hell let it pass inspection.
I have a good idea where I'd like to stick those packing peanuts.
But let me back up!
Texas was wonderful.
I don't think I can even explain it-
it's a sort of slow soaking in that is still taking place.
I met amazing people,
. . . I met myself again.
In the throes of glass-casting.
In room 508.
In the crowded airport when I had no idea where to go.
I learned a lot.
New techniques to love and some I doubt I'll ever pick up again.
I realized how far I've come,
and that it's really okay to be proud of that
despite still having so far to go.
And I'm home now.
Here, typing in the dark with only the light of the screen.
Soft snoring in the next room.
A cat trying desperately to knead biscuits on my shoulder.
Tomorrow is the unveiling of a turning point in my work.
The next phase of evolution.
I feel at once gun-shy and damn proud.
I feel full.
I did miss you.
I'm back with a vengeance, though,
so I hope you missed me too.
Shop update tomorrow.