Everybody is Home

All five of my children are now safe in Haines. The two big girls, women really, already live here, but the three college kids are back. The house smells like bacon and eggs and the music is up loud. The shoes in the mud room have multiplied and there are guitars on the couch. It is all a kind of  a noisy mess, and I am grateful for it. Tonight, I read from Garden and Dogs at the library. They have sold tickets and apparently there are only a handful left. Wow. This morning I had my annual mammogram in the mobile unit parked at the clinic. I think having your tit in a ringer (pardon me, but there is no better way to say this, the ladies will all know exactly how it feels) is a great way to keep your head from swelling just because you wrote a book. Even kings put their pants on one leg at a time, and even writers have to get mammograms and hold their breath and try not to scream and wonder how that part of them could possibly get so thin. (And pray they don't find a lump and if they do that you will be gracious and brave during the treatment.) Speaking of wellness, tomorrow is the annual Wisewomen Klukwan river walk, 22 miles from the village to town. Walk all, or part, of it, and bring a friend.


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