Election Diary: One More Day
This morning, I made a seaweed soup with venison instead of beef, like it’s someone’s birthday in Korea. The town Christmas tree was driven past the loft to the town square with Christmas carols blaring from the truck as it went. To be honest, it felt a little ominous when I first heard it outside the kitchen window. We’re not at the little house yet. I just want to sleep in my own bed, cook in my own kitchen, and not be so worried all the time but that’s not prudent. So today, I’ll go to the little house and keep moving things around until it feels like somewhere livable or until I can’t make any more excuses for staying home.
We have to be wise, we have to be careful. The most treacherous part of any journey are the last steps before you reach the destination. It’s too easy to trip over the threshold and drop the basket of eggs you’ve carried for a mile without incident. There are so many things I want to say, so many thoughts running through my mind. Where to begin?
It’s important to me to cut all my negative ties with the past. That means goodbye to the neighbors who were such awful gossips, who fed house sparrows and caused sewage blockages and were, in the end, absolutely fervent believers in every single Trump conspiracy they ever heard, just without the hats and tacky merch. It means goodbye to my family of origin, I mean a real goodbye, a forever goodbye…
