The End

We have reached the end, the grand finale, the closing curtain on Spring Semester, 2005. This weekend, also known as Crunch Time, is packed with papers, presentations, and portfolios (yes, I'm serious -- they all start with P's). I have a major project due in every class next week; one delightful teacher has assigned TWO. And I've made it my goal to have all these items ready for turn-in by Monday. I am not going to spend this entire week working my fingers into tiny nubs as I scramble to complete assignments at the last minute. I am headed to the library now. I'm bringing ear plugs, money, and stressbusters (don't ask me what they are. You don't want to know). I'm almost done with two of the projects...but I have four more to go. Sigh. And don't tell me I've had all semester to do them. You'd be right, but don't tell me that. Who asked you to visit my blog, anyway? Begone, all of you!

That's it. You've insulted me with your lectures about procrastination. I can still hear you! So maybe I should have been working on my journals all along. Maybe I could have gotten my HLS presentation done weeks ago. But how am I supposed to juggle school and my many social obligations, yet still have time to make the world safe for democracy? I'd like to see you all try it! Of course, you probably wouldn't be glued to the couch watching CNN cover the stirring story of the Runaway Bride from Georgia.

I'll be quiet now...

Hallelujah, the Barn is risen!

Yesterday, the temp was a balmy 60+ degrees, and Dad decided it was Time. We raised the barn in the time-honored way, which harkens back to the days of the Pennsylvania Dutch. In those days, Hamish and Sarah would have gathered all the neighbors together for a day of Barn-Raising. The men would have built the frame and lifted the walls and roof; the women would have cooked a massive feast of roasted chicken and shoo-fly pie. We recalled these traditions yesterday as we put the tarp cover on my mom's new "temporary" indoor ring. Dad called a bunch of his buddies; we bought them coffee, doughnuts, beer and pizza (in that order); we spent from about 8 a.m. to about 2:30 p.m. slinging a vinyl cover over a 45 X 90 aluminum structure. It was very Amish, thank thee.

My main regret came as we unfolded the tarp, which stretched broad and white and slick over the back pasture. I said -- yes, a little sadly -- that it would have made the best slip-and-slide EVER. And that gave my dad the bright idea that some of us should take our shoes off and pull from the inside as we readied the sleeve to be raised over the roof. So I did. And as we were all pulling and I was pulling -- and, I might add, walking backwards as I lugged this great big plastic SHEET -- I slipped on the thing and fell.

Big surprise, right? Trants, falling? I know. It shocked me, too. But it was no big. The roof got raised. And this brings me to my next point:

What IS it with boys?????

Why do they feel the need to do outrageous shit? Like even JOKE about peeing on an electric fence? Why do they climb up scaffolding without a net, a ladder, a harness, or at the very least a stiff, sturdy rope? What are they Thinking????

I actually have an answer for my own rhetoric. Boys like to flirt, even with death. Case in point: my brother, who actually hung from the rafter yesterday when his ladder went out from under him. He was about a story up in the air, and he hung for several goose-pimpling moments before he swung his legs onto the other rafter and hauled himself to safety. I heard about this; I didn't actually see it because I was on my way to get beer and pizza. But even the story was enough to make me freak. "Mike," I said, "what would you have done if you couldn't get your legs back up?"

He gave me Mike's Original Charming Grin (copyright, 1975), and said, "Well, T, I guess I would have fallen down."

He then went on to tell me that he's fallen from higher heights. Apparently, climbing tall shit without safety gear is more than a casual hobby for him: it's an obsession. Did I NEED to know this? Now, in addition to worrying about where he's living, whether he's eating, who he's dating and why he's not calling, I also have to concern myself with what he's climbing. GREAT!

Boys.

Bisy Backson (in which Trants explains through A Story why she has not posted recently)

Rabbit woke up that morning with a Very Good Feeling, and as he made himself toast for his breakfast, he began to whistle. It was just that sort of day --- the kind when one knew he would get many Important Things done. "Today," Rabbit said, as he left off whistling and began to Concentrate, "I shall finish my spring cleaning." For it was indeed spring, and there were dozens of items to be cleaned. "But first," Rabbit continued by way of conversation, although there was no one else in his house with whom to converse. "First, I shall check my favorite website." And so he logged in to his computer and typed -- with slightly toast-crumby paws -- WWW.TRANTS.BLOGSPOT.COM.

The computer hummed a hummy sort of song, and the webpage appeared. And this is what it said:

GON OUT

BACKSON

BISY

BACKSON

LOVE, TRANTS

Rabbit stared at the screen. He stared and blinked, he blinked and he stared, but the message did not change in any sort of way, even though he stared and blinked several times more, just to be sure. "Oh, Bother," said Rabbit, feeling certain that his day was now ruined. "Trants has gone away." But as he didn't know quite where or quite how, he decided he must ask Someone Who Knows. And in the Hundred Acre Wood, that Someone could only be Owl.

So he hurried off importantly.

He came to Owl's door, and he knocked very loudly, so that Owl would be sure to hear. After a little while, Owl's head came out. "Go away," Owl's head said. "Today I am Not To Be Disturbed. I am in the process of Thinking."

"Never mind that," said Rabbit, rather shortly. "Now, look here, Owl. I've a message from Trants that I need you to read."

"Well," said Owl as he opened the door. "Of course," he said. "To be sure," he added, just to be safe. Rabbit went to Owl's computer and showed him the website.

"Am I right?" He asked. "Do you see?"

Owl looked at the screen nervously. "Of course one could assume---" He began. "That is, there's certainly an indication---"

"Yes?" said Rabbit.

"Exactly," said Owl, looking Wise and Thoughtful. "It's just what I was thinking."

"Well?"

"It's the only possible answer," said Owl, hoping that something helpful would happen soon.

"Yesterday morning," said Rabbit solemnly, "I checked the website. And there was a notice."

"The same notice?"

"The words were somewhat different."

"I see," said Owl. To one of his education, reading was quite easy, as long as whomever wanted the words read did not lean over his shoulder and say---

"Well?"

"And what did the words say?"

"On this notice," Rabbit asked, "or the other one?"

"Either one will do. Just the exact words, if you please."

"This one says Bisy. Bisy Backson."

Owl sighed happily. "Now I see," he said. "It is quite clear what has happened to our Trants, my dear Rabbit. I am surprised you did not see it yourself. But I suppose that only those who can spell Tuesday have the patience to consider things so thoroughly."

"Yes, but what has happened? Where is Trants?"

"Bisy, Backson," Owl said, "is just the sort of thing you'd expect to see on a notice. It indicates that Trants has gone out somewhere with Backson. She and Backson are busy together. Have you seen a Backson anywhere about in the Forest lately?"

"I don't know," said Rabbit. "That's what I came to ask you. What are they like?"

"Well," said Owl, "the Spotted or Herbaceous Backson is just a--"

"At least," he said, "it's really more of a----"

"Of course," he said, "it depends on the----"

"Well," said Owl, "the fact is," he said, "I don't know what they're like," said Owl frankly.

"Thank you," said Rabbit. And he hurried off to see Pooh.


As you can see, Backson and I are quite bisy. I promise I'll Postson......er....... soon.

Last night, I dreamed of our daughter

She had the most beautiful smile.

I'm lucky with my dreaming; sometimes, I have the most vivid, cinematic visions and when I wake up, I feel certain that I've looked through some sort of window. I'm not saying I see the future. No, it's more like an insight -- a glimpse of The Truth. I don't always understand it. I just know that whatever it is, it's important. It's a barometer of my inner self, how things are going, how hopeful or despairing I feel. Obviously, I'm feeling pretty hopeful.

It's no secret that I'm ready for a family. What's exciting is that Scholar is ready too; he brings the subject up on his own, and freely talks about our children. It's a much better time for this kind of talk, even though there's still a lot of prepping to do. I just signed up for fall classes, after all.

But last night...this dream...

I've always been so jealous of my friends who have children--especially Cin, because Na-Na has the Sweetest Smile Ever. Her other daughter, Harm, is wonderful too, but older. I got to see Na when she was little. I was still bruised, and I really didn't want to fall in love with her. I tried to stay away for a while, maybe forever, but Cin was having none of that. And when I finally met the child, she flashed me this heart-melting smile and I was done. I don't mind admitting that I have coveted that smile.

But after last night's dream, I would just like to say that I might get one of my own. Dream Baby had a scream like a siren (I told you my dreams were cinematic), but a smile like the sun breaking through clouds.

Look out, Nadia.