Susan Senator

Dipping myself into the shallow end of the pond today. I throw off the leaden shackles of despair because things are 180 degrees improved with the House communication. Natty makes the calls and we have… a conversation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Which I, finally, end because….I am out of stuff to ask!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He says “Good bye”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A kid who could not answer yes or no at 4.

Development, good school program, lots of love, air and water and sunlight and THEY GROW AND IMPROVE. Forget the actual diagnosis. It’s only a word.

I kick the soapbox out from under my feet and continue:

Ned’s working from home, it is sunny enough for a run or ride, my class went well yesterday, Nat was okay on the phone. The fragile balance holds, ever important to a Libra.

So my light thoughts turn to TCBB: Taking Care of Business, Babe. School newsletter. Autism Book 2 interviews. Keep Beastie bouncy. Get Max to grunt a little about his day. Quality time with Ned. Bike to repair shop (Mr. Y has a sudden and mysterious flat tire, oh the betrayal!) Getting my new computer, with the educator’s discount(!) (Precious only has 9 letters on her keyboard. Her lid cannot shut. She is slow and creaky. But she is like an old friend. She helped me write MPWA and Dirt: A Story of Gardening, Mothering, and Midlife Crisis. How can I junk her?

Oh, but I can. I am going to have to upgrade because, well, it’s time.) And if I sell Dirt — which is at the fourth editor now, the first three having declined — I will get the upgraded MacBook modded cotton candy pink (thanks for the suggestion, Max!)