dust and stories

There’s a lot of dust here. Bagless vacuums are going to get tested. But there’s a clean chair for you, and a spare set of readers if you need them. And some coffee.

I haven’t gone through the full set of drafts – any of them – and there’s something deliberate as opposed to the offhand, data-loaded posts I’ve given to fb for the past few years. But if FB was a way to get the writing muscles working, I can say thank you and switch gyms.

The picture I’m using is 7 or 8 years old. The rakish white stripe has spread. And when I look in the mirror and see the thin wispy sheets of white, like scrim, I feel old. More on that and the other factors that lead to the feeling of vulnerability and our gelatinous existence later.

I am not working for money. The kids are now old enough to find things on Social Media, so they are explicitly off limits unless they give informed consent. (Learning about informed consent begins at home.)  Let’s share some stories, though, and have a cup. I missed you here.

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