From bent twigs roses grow

I have yet to drop a summer flower on your lawn.

I have a rose that is growing in front of my kitchen window from a branch I bent while painting, and it is blooming in such a way that told me to perservere at all costs.

To that end I have a resignation letter printed out and ready to send, signed and dated for the 1st of September.

I have applications out to a regional hospital in Boise, the state of Idaho and the city of Nampa, but no call backs yet.

I had ants burrowing away in the basement and under the porch but all those problems have been dealt with and are about wrapped up. Solving problems during this time of strife is the only thing, outside of my children and writing you, that keeps me strong and makes the days fly by.

I have had a number of lookers come through the house but no buyers yet.

I have window sills left to paint and a number of window frames to touch up.

I still have plenty of boxes to fill, almost all of them needing newspaper to help complete the job.

I feel lucky to have friends who have been brave enough to snub their noses at the blockade in order to talk to me, both directly in person and through email, in order to get the full and real story about what's going on.

I have dahlias in the backyard that are blooming, I have plum and Asian pears that are ripening and a number of sunflowers that are ready to pop.

I get phone calls almost every day from Punkin, sometimes two a day if I'm real lucky.

I have found that when times get tight even the budget wines are fine, in this case the Au label from Australia and Crane Lake from California are just dandy.

I found that sometimes food needs to sit before it really hits it's stride..my lasagna needed three days to mellow and a nice bottle of Shiraz to make it really sing.

I have also found out that sipping wine and making conversation over the course of four hours is a lot more fun than knocking out a bottle without a soul in the house but me.

I love to have people around but expectations about the parameters of the relationships need to be explored and explained and agreed upon up front.

I have discovered that the phrase "a man is more than his job" most certainly applies to me this summer. I am ready to discover who this other man is other than the one that goes by "librarian".

I am excited about writing that novel, but I am also sorry that I don't have more material to work with other than the satchel of goods we generated over that long and wonderful year we shared together.

I am looking forward to a new home, a new community and a renewed relationship with my children, but I will miss being so far from you, regardless of the fact that I haven't seen hide nor hair of you in over a year.

I am a man of habit and still wake up every morning and say good morning to you, but I think you knew that already.

I know that when I leave Port Orchard I will be sad but at the same time, very, very excited about the new adventures that lay ahead.

I also know that once I am out of the region that I will be more inclined to send to you pears at Christmas and sign you up for a subscription to Sunset for your birthday and to write you letters sent certified mail, just because I want more than anything to let you know how I am doing. Besides, what better way is there to vex The Detective than to let you know that I am alive and kicking? And yes, I am sorry for him, too, as it will be very hard to give me that hairy eyeball stare of his at five hundred miles.

Know, too, that I am happy for the first time in weeks. The letter to end my career at the library is in the mail, my retirement will be pillaged once again but should be enough to carry me over to winter, and if all goes well I will be receiving a stipend from the government because I requested to be laid off. M, I may never be as wealthy as you or live in as nice of a house as you or have the religious edge that you do, but my dear, know this: that whenever you feel that your house and money and religious connections no longer speak to you or for you my door is open to you, no matter where that may be. It could take us the rest of our lives to find our way back to that place under the spreading Oregon Maple where we handed over our hearts to each other on the 27th of August in 2005, but I am willing to take that chance, that chance that filling a life with alli it's mysteries with you is better than facing a unknowable future without you.

What is time, my love, but a God given chance to live a life more fully? Why waste it? I have plenty of it. All I have is yours for the taking, even if what you get a life of watching bent roses recovering and heated coffee cups to greet the day.

Your WHMB