Wednesday, April 22, 2009


Both my mom and stepmom have told me they love Zumba dance (see, you guys have something in common ;-) so I'm attempting it in about an hour. Hopefully no puking or fainting. I'm fed and hydrated and have more energy than usual for a Wednesday evening, so I don't anticipate any problems.

My supervisor at work suddenly left in the middle of the day last Friday. He technically resigned, but it's a very ODD departure to work there for many years, give no notice and not have another job. I am not getting the whole story, obviously, and that is okay. But I've met with him weekly since I started my job and the lack of closure is disturbing. Hopefully I'll catch up with him soon.

Gabe and I are getting save the dates out soon, even though I said that two weeks ago. We've had to revise our room contract a few times and I want to get that settled first. Gabe also decided he didn't like the site's save the dates so he came up with a good one on his own, but it's not quite done.

No Niko sightings's 42 weeks tomorrow. Kim is still holding out for a natural birth, so people please send some good birthing energy her way. And Niko, we promise you'll be greeted with lots of love!

Oh - I went to a patient's house today and they got a brand new puppy named "Millie".

And I'll leave you with another poem by another old favorite, e.e. cummings. I swear that this man is at least 60% responsible for my early love affair with the English language. A combination of parents and Emily Dickinson make up the rest.


i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
--i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
--i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)


Ok, time to Zumba!

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