I'm here, in rainy Massachusetts, battling with a freakishly giant ant that seems to want to walk precariously on the ceiling above my bed. My latest defensive move involved getting it to walk on to a magazine, flinging the magazine out of my room like a frisbee, slamming the door shut, and lining the crack under the door with a towel (as it crawled in the last time I hurled it out). My stepmother is probably going to be wondering why her various subscriptions are sprawled in heaps in the hallway tomorrow morning.
This is a photograph I took last summer of a pond here, the one just next to Thoreau's, because I am in the midst of another struggle as well. A large chunk of dust lodged itself into the lens of my camera, and despite my most heroic efforts, it wouldn't budge, but rather sat there, indignantly producing a large blurry splotch in every photo I took. So my poor little camera got bundled up and sent off to be fixed. Is it just me, or when you're separated from your camera, does it feel like your three year old is wandering the streets alone, or you forgot your left foot somewhere? I hate it! But it is forcing me to take more film photos, so that is good... but it's hard to be without any form of instant photographic gratification.
There are other conflicts going on, big ones, the kind that define lifestyles, futures, relationships, and other Big Stuff. But seeing as I just got here, have things to do, and choices still to be made, for now I leave you with the cutest picture ever that my Mom sent me. Because, yep, Kitty had her kittens. And she's just as affectionate with them as she is with people. And yes, I am outrageously disappointed that she waited until after I left to pop them out.