I hate having the phone at work. As soon as I get the damned thing, it stops ringing and the rule around here is you hold the phone until it rings for somebody else. I've had it since 8:30 this morning when Heather called saying she wouldn't be in until this afternoon and I got to pee, man. Have had to pee all morning long. But I feel like all I ever do is give the phone away when it's not somebody's turn to have it. RING DAMN YOU.

This morning, coming into work, the wind! It blew! It's good to be awed by the vastness of the world.

We've got so many events on the horizen. It's been giving us some cause for concern--doesn't seem to be a clear week ahead until August. And Jeff works and works and works. It's when he stops working, has time to not be so damned exhausted every minute, that the overwhelming stuff starts up. The house, the dogs, the money, the free time. There ain't enough, never is, never will be. It's hard. Sometimes. Course the blackberries are getting all plump and red, only a few more weeks on them. And the peaches and the tomatoes and peppers and the wild flowers are starting to peek up (Jeff doesn't believe it, but I do). The goodness and plenty of the earth. That's what makes all this stupid shit (money and paper, eegads they'll bury me if I don't remember the rest of life) worth slogging through.

Dagnabbit! The phone just rang but it was for Clara and she's on her break! Ring again! Ring better!

Speaking of Clara, she brought me in a lovely bunch of flowers for my birthday. Bluebells from her garden which she put in a big mason jar. That's pure North Carolina goodness.

Oh and the best thing: Jeff pulled off the plastic over the place where the kitchen window will go. The wide view of the pasture and the chicken coop house is restored. I can breathe easy again, friends.

When I get to feeling overwhelmed by it all, it helps me to imagine just walking away from everything. Helps to remember that life is not a trap, not one thing in life is a trap. Jeff wanted to leave it all yesterday, hit the road for Costa Rica. He said, do you ever feel like just leaving me? I said, nope not yet. How about the dogs, he said. Not ever, so help me god. The dogs are not a responsibility to me. The dogs are my heart beating. Where I go, they go. Jeff gets mad, I think, because I don't worry like he does about one of them getting hit in the road. And it's true I don't worry the way he does. I don't know why I don't. Maybe I can't really believe in that kind of end for my faithfuls, my heart and bone.

I'm glad Jeff's home these three days. I can't remember the last time he had two days off, let alone three. He turned off that blasted cell phone and he got some sleep. I knew it was going to be hard for him when he woke up from that long slumber. He's taken on the whole world and not even superman or god or Jeff can do all that he's promised himself he'd do. A change is going to come. I feel it and pronounce it good. I love Jeff like I love Basho--clean and pure and strong and trust. I know that both of them will always figure their own ways out of the raging river.