What is life now? I have a partner, who I love and with whom I make lists about the future. I have a dog now, Dora, who very much holds the spirit of Kiska inside her. I have a house (and new garage) with all of its firm, settled, solid qualities. Tori arrives in less than a month. I work from the office in the city because the office in my house has too many windows looking out into the woods, where I would much rather be. How long until I give up technology to work the fields and woods with Kate?
As I tread the grounds of my father and spend time with my grandfather, I hear many stories about the things they used to do together. I hear about how they had taken apart most of the John Deere bull-dozer together, about using the propane heater that is now in my garage to unfreeze the tracks on said bull-dozer deep in the woods one winter while cutting firewood. I hear about the last time my father fixed the points on the Ford 8N tractor. When did any of this happen? Before me? When I wasn’t looking? I don’t think I ever turned a wrench with my father, but we’ve certainly both done our fair share.
It’s nice to know now and then that L is still alive. Perhaps because of my love, she is a person I want to exist in the world, very much like the last scene of Zero Effect.
I haven’t reconnected with any friends here beside Matthew. I’ve been trying with Jason and Maria, but I suspect their interests are narrow and do not align with the possibilities given in a rural area. I suppose I understand why they’re here, and it isn’t because they want to be. I ran into Trevor in town the other day though and pondered a little thereafter about Kates worry about finding more active friends our age, since the majority of the people we interact with fit into the aging population of the area.
I’m working at home today because EBS delivered hardwood floor for the upstairs of the house. I was happy to purchase Maine cut and milled wood. Despite the unseasonable warm rain outside, as usual I would rather be out there. I think I need an office without windows in the basement.