May 6, 2009



Three months have passed, the season changed from winter to spring. The weight of an unsold house, an empty pocket-book and no vacation in sight, brought me down. What’s the point of writing when things feel so unchanging, so stuck, so heavy?

Doing pretty much anything that doesn’t involve reading fiction, watching movies, knitting or caring for the pets, has seemed almost impossible. And yet, I did volunteer at the Wisconsin Film Festival and took a stay-cation to Milwaukee and Spring Green. But still the weight of our own personal economy has kept me tethered to the bottom.

In a making lemonaide out of lemons move, I decided we should start looking at our house in Atlanta as a great vacation home. It is already paid for, drivable in a long day, and takes dogs. It really is a fantastic house and we should go hang-out in it. So we are. We leave on Sunday for ten days of vacation. This alone has helped clear the gloom.

Further, the sailing season is upon us, with instructor planning, scheduling and deep anticipation. Sailing was always listed high on the reasons to move back, but coming back at the end of the season has meant a long winter of not realizing that goal. I think life will feel better with water under my feet.

  • Eating salted avocados with a spoon in Madison.
  • Blogging since 2003.