7.07.2013… few clouds, no wind, no rain

Everything is wet with yesterday’s rain. The fields are misting it off and unless another rainstorm comes in it will be dry by afternoon except for the puddles in the road. James took the 4th of July flag down, but we couldn’t fold it. It remains draped on the railing, a damp remnant of the rain that ended five brilliant days of celebrating. Dana and little James, their nephew Braydon, and friend Zane will go this morning, leaving me with the bitter sweetness of another holiday ending and my time alone beginning.

7.06.2013...

John flew back to Seattle today. There were tears at the Helena Airport as he ripped away quick and sharp at the terminal drop off curb. I got back into the car alone as he walked away, each of us wiping at our eyes. It will only be two weeks, but he is my daily world, my waking and my going to sleep at night, my “what do you want for breakfast?” and my “what do you think of this?” He is my full body embrace, my comfort, my crazy maker, my everyday true love. And now we are apart so I can get comfortable with my work.

7.5.2013...

Over the holiday I had my houseguests looking for the coyote skulls we buried last summer. I'd been sure we would remember the exact location, but of course we did not. First Kendel and Braydon, then later James, Dana, and Zane shoveled dirt in the approximate place… but the skulls refused to be found. I’d rescued them last year from the ground where they'd rotted off the fence posts they’d hung on. I’d thought to do something dignifying with them. After everyone gave up digging, I had a dream. In the dream I knew right where the skulls were and dug them up. When I woke up I went out to look, it was true… there was a patch that hadn’t been disturbed. But, John had already raked and seeded the whole mess. In the end, I guess the dignity came from the burying.

7.04.2013...

I seem to be everyone’s cousin: first cousin, second cousin, third cousin, cousin once or twice removed, cousin-in-law, future cousin-in-law. In the end, there is no hierarchy, just family. We gather on July fourth not to celebrate independence so much as dependence…dependence on each other for the belonging that tethers us to purpose, that gives us a reason.

7.03.2013...

John drove a truck and trailer in the Harlo parade. The trailer was full of “Cream of the West” kids tossing sweets (not hot cereal) to everyone they passed. They were delirious with the responsibility of dispensing so much candy. I, on the other hand, was terrified for the driver who had never driven with a trailer. Of course he was fine… even when he took his hands off the wheel to take my picture while I was taking a picture of him.

7.02.2013...

Two Dot danced in the street again: little girls with arms around each other dreaming of boyfriends, tall girls with their little brothers, hand held circles of children in boots and hats…some still in diapers, couples in matching western shirts, and half of lifetime dance partners dancing with someone else for the first time. Some danced in boots and some danced in sensible comfort shoes, but pretty much everyone had a little polish on because this only happens once a year.

7.01.2013… no clouds or wind or rain, hot

The family came to dinner. It was about as fine a time as you can have. The food was good, the wine was delicious, the stories well told, and everybody laughed. I begin to understand the earlier generation and their family relationships… my aunties traveling back and forth to each other’s homes, best friends built on history together.