Tuesday, June 26, 2012

June 26th

I have this dull, throbbing headache and it's not even eight o'clock in the morning. I thought I slept well.

Yesterday evening, the western half of the sky rose up from the horizon in long wavering bands of gold and dusky purple. Against this backdrop, the trees were tall black silhouettes, motionless in the muggy evening.

Lightning bugs danced along the fence, and a thousand and one insects shrilled from their hidden places in the woods.

 It's easy to see how, once upon a time, Georgia was something very like a jungle, with parakeets and palm trees and malaria.

We have ground to a stop with the adoption stuff, for the simple reason that we have run out of money for the month. We couldn't send in the document for Kentucky, even if we knew what it was.

Yesterday, our Adoptive Family Coordinator from our placement agency called for his two week check-in. It's been one month now, since we joined their program.

I felt like a delinquent child, having to report little or no progress, while imagining other, happy, cash-lubricated couples moving ahead smoothly on their adoptions.

Oh, the happy family; that persistent, irritating delusion!

I have snooped around on the website for our placement agency, and I have to tell you, no one is like that. The sample pamphlets lie, quel surprise.

Most of the other couples I saw have that soft, broken look around their eyes; a telltale sign of grief. They are homely and live in out of the way places and struggle to articulate on video.

They are like us, another words.

We are also still waiting to hear about the roof and foundation repairs to our house in Colorado. Our property manager is having some trouble, due to the fact that huge portions of the West are going up in flames.

Her house is in the area next in line for evacuation and the other day, she almost couldn't get home- both highways were closed due to the fires. Her voice sounds gritty and exhausted over the phone.

Today, I'm going to methodically clean the house, top to bottom, as a form of therapy. There are a lot of things I have no control over, but I can at least mop the floor.