This morning it's a whopping 38 degrees in Atlanta, making for a chilly commute. Good thing I'm not commuting. I'm off work today and tomorrow, spending my time relaxing whenever I'm not cleaning the house or playing Slave to the Gym. I'm also trying to write. Go figure. :)

I love it when it gets cold here. It tricks my memory, makes me think I'm home in Washington. How is Washington these days? How is my favorite little state? (Oregon, you're a close second.) Let's see. There's a house for rent on Pioneer...and Pierce College is on an ongoing search for English faculty. *sigh* The possibilities.

Tom and I might be moving soon. (And by "soon" I mean 8 more months in Atlanta.) This is the first time I'm saying it to anyone but family (and where can you publicize if not the internet??) and I'm a bit nervous. (Amy and Tara are right. It does suck to watch your mouth. And one must do that online.) Anyway. Tom's going to the Captain's Career Course in Columbus, GA, in July of next year. We'll live there for about 6 months (or so), until he somehow works his magic to get stationed at Fort Lewis, Washington. Let's hope he doesn't get sucked into a speedy deployment, okay?

We're both homesick here and are getting tired of being away from family. I'm sick of being depressed, though I know I pack that wherever I go. But I think a drastic improvement could be made if we were able to move back to the west coast. We want to start a family and can't do it while we feel so scattered, like there's no solid ground under our feet. Plus I'm sick of most local passersby looking at me like they want to hurt me. (What did I do??)

I wrote a poem this morning. I hope you guys like it. Don't work too hard to "get it," just let your imagination open and think whatever thoughts it lets come. You know? Here it is. Until next time?

(in response to Joanne Kyger’s poem)

How could I not agree? I like to
agree, especially with women.

I see the black butterflies you saw.
I hear the crickets and frogs

reminding me: I don’t live here.
It makes me want a drink.

Do you sense the magpie waiting
at the end of the drive? A truly ugly bird.

A couple pretty blue feathers
and the reputation of a buzzard.

You know what makes things
easier? Never let your winter clothes

get dusty. Move every six months.
Follow the cold as it swings

around our marble globe,
a perfect wave of white.

Above all, never put anything in storage.
Never tuck letters away.

Live your life in piles around the
house you never owned.


Tara said…
Oh Abby, I love this poem. The "Follow the cold" line is gorgeous and the whole poem is pretty and melancholy. I hope you get to move as soon as possible and I'm crossing my fingers that Tom doesn't get deployed at all.
CWrites said…
I LOVE it Abby! Ummmm.. also excuse me but why do I have to find out about you moving on your blog??!!! I'M FAMILY NOW TOO YA KNOW....!!!! Okay, now that is off my chest, I know all things will work out for you and Tom favorably.
Abby! Mrow! I like your poem...and I LOVE the idea of you living in Washington again. You know, so you can watch my kids and I can make sure you eat your veggies. ;-) I miss you!!!

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