Mountains and trees

Sisters, Oregon

I was supposed to be in Colorado last week. My parents were going to meet us there. I haven't hugged them since June of 2019. That's almost 18 months. I still kept my time off of work and "vacationed" at home. I mostly cooked and a memory of an old life almost came into view, of how things used to be. I didn't let myself go there for too long, and that's a good thing. Some might see denial, however what they don't know is that on this side of my boundary it looks a lot different, and it guards me.

hazelnut farm

Luna (I learned she was trans a couple years ago now, and we adjusted -- didn't bat an eye -- this in no way offers anyone an accurate depiction of how easy or difficult it is for her nor does it represent the "beliefs" of some of her blood relatives about which I have a lot to say a lot maybe we will chat about it sometime) is in 9th grade via remote learning for... ages now, since the beginning of the shut down before spring break last schoolyear. Our house is tiny. All four kids do schoolwork in their rooms. For a while Carter (first year of college at Oregon State) set up a desk in the garage but it's too cold in there now. Luna was sleeping when I stopped home during the day last Friday. She told me she was off school. I checked with Ivy and she had school. The calendar on the district website said there was school. "Who told you that you didn't have school?" "My friends." She had missed since Veteran's Day. Apparently the school doesn't call to let you know when your kid misses class online? 

Amanita Muscaria aka The Fly Agaric

I can't be mad at her. 1. I can't because I'm not mad at her. I mean can you blame her? 2. I can't be mad at her because I'm her primary support lifeline. We can not have stupid strife about school when every single last one of us is barely keeping our heads above water and what I'm realizing now is that we are reverse evolving. Devolution. Backtracking to get safely out of here. We will have to grow gills and fins again, or drown.