And The Blustery Winds of Change Blew ...

That's the title of the last chapter of my Craig book, it's been on my mind a lot lately, 1. because i'm still trimming the fat of verbose from it's body & 2. as a one time English major i find that just as the main plot and theme of any good book is intertwined symbolically throughout the story so to goes life.
In my book the change marks an end of the Revolutionary era and new dimensions of the Early republic - a place where people have to be flexible and have resources in order to navigate swift economic and social changes that occur from the upper class down. It is not trickle down economics it is more like a flash flood and quick displacement of people. In my life - well that's pretty obvious.
Sunday the wind was almost a welcome addition, it had been, and was still, so hot. There was an eeriness everywhere, people tried to smile as they held their hats atop their heads and remarked on the weather. Leaving church, my hands holding down my skirt, I am sure I said a hundred times "Yes - it is a blustery day!" Who ever thought there would be a hurricane in Ohio? The soft buzz of electricity fell silent (and stayed silent for days on end). As the wind reeked havoc outside there was little to do hunkered down on the inside - I read Bernard Bailyn by torch (not quite as romantic as it may sound lol), I soaked in a candle lit bath steaming with the last hot water and lavender milk. I eat up time with honey, mud, and Dead Sea salt -exfoliation, waxing, plucking, and moisturizing. There was some interstate texting until the battery died, random ceiling staring, cards with Friends, and an intense game of get the ball with Nadi... though the ball wasn't a ball but the torch light on the wall, carpet, and ceiling.
Of course the wind was only one small part ... the aftermath was yet another. When day broke the following morning the damage left was unavoidable. The air smelled burnt from random fires come to smolder in the neighborhood. Shingles and trees lay with an assorted variety of other debris - everywhere. Not counting the park and river walk along my run 70 trees had been severally damaged, ripped out by the roots or simply snapped in half and discarded like twigs. There was a great deal of cleaning and sorting that needed done by all able body hands. Simple staples like new groceries, light, news, and email became unobtainable luxuries...

It wasn't quite the organized manner in which I wanted to begin my graduate studies... It wasn't a lot of things. It was however a big mess. I made myself of use to the neighbors haling branches and trees to the curb. Getting started was hard - there was just so much to do. I could not help but see a symbolic reflection in the wind tossed mess and my life. What mess was already beginning to collect at my feet thanks to the changes I had brought upon myself? The thing about creating a mess is your bound to have to clean it up - alone. Having days on hand without electronic interruption when I found myself sifting through my own little mess. Though 3,000 men were shipped in to get the buzz back in the power lines I started to wonder if perhaps the storm itself couldn't be an opportunity to ponder and regain lost ground - to sort through this mess.

Teaching Orientation began - it was a nice added bit of normalcy amongst the mess. Muddling the waters a bit more or perhaps clearing them, I happen to have met this really great guy at orientation. Normally I wouldn't have spent any time with an art history major - but he just struck me right. I ended up spending a bunch of the day with him and invited him to join me for lunch with some friends - we inadvertently had the same orientation schedule where I found out he was ... LDS. Of course. It keeps happening to me... again me seeing the symbolism... is this like spotting a bit of light in darkness... is this HF way of showing me back to the road or Rod? I prayed lol in my head right in class... is this what this is? But the other church felt right and this one does not? and so here I am in a steeping pile of I don't know what afraid to go either way because I just don't know what it all means or if it even means anything. Without power or street lights you start to notice there are an awful lot of stars out there...

Dear HF ... can you hear me now?