/ by Laura Kochman

I am the drying meadow; you the unspoken apology; he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son; she is the first gesture that creates a quiet that is full enough to make the baby sleep. My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside.

- Aimee Bender


I read all of Willful Creatures on one of my flights last week, the whole book in less than 2 hours, gulping it down at first to distract myself from being suspended above the clouds, and then because I couldn't stop. I decided at some point that I had to finish before we landed, because interrupting my reading for unloading was just unacceptable.

I'm still in the midst of packing, and because of some uncontrollable factors, I'm moving myself and the cat to a friend's house for a week (or more), and then moving us both again to the new apartment. I'm also teaching every morning, and if my days continue the way they've been going, I'm not going to read or write much until the end of June, which is disappointing. This isn't really how I envisioned spending this time. I thought I was going to read and write most days, and figure out what I want to work on thesis-wise, get a solid start. These days are feeling mostly wispy.

I do have a strawberry shortcake in my refrigerator, though. So that's okay.