How long has it been? A Saturday at B & N

Niko and I hardly meet any more for writing on Mondays, but it would be so good to starts that again. There's first one thing and then another. Her head injury--I think is much better. Her care for her mother, the children coming home, the summer. The urge NOT to write--whatever is that about?

And so, my 71st approaches--and what it turns out to be, really, is a year like any other--hope and tragedy intertwined with the normal and boring, the mundane, often hoped for in times of turmoil.

And since I last posted? Let's see:

The most destructive wildfire in Colorado history, the Fourmile Canyon fire, destroyed 160+ homes, including the one Richard and I bought in Wallstreet when Andre was 2--the one we raised him in, the one where he was married, the one that Richard continued to live in , continued to work on, turning the gold mine into a wine cellar, installing in-floor heating, creating an aviary (I don't have the heart to ask about the birds). That house was Richard's major relationship, no doubt, and he is inconsolable. Andre watching him carefully.

Right before it was engulfed, as Richard was leaving

We have friends whose homes were destroyed and friends whose homes are standing, and that's really awkward, isn't it? But those amazing children of ours--the ones we raised together 30 years ago, have been returning to that burnt-out place, coming home to their parents' houses, taking care of them, Andre and Melvina--both of them having lost their childhood home--Megan and Gaylan, Pierce, sheltering and helping parents whose homes were saved. Harmony and countless other of our children, sending heartfelt condolences to Andre. We raised those children well, and they are the ones rising from the ashes, coming to the weary and heartbroken parents.

So, of course, all else that has happened seems miniscule--but things have happened--of which I will post separately