The Write Life

 

Darlings,

 

    November has mostly come and gone. I have a few interesting bits to share. On Sunday the nineteenth, I was honored with a visit from this friend. I won’t share the details, because it’s private. But the proof is in the picture. It was literally about five feet above me on a tree branch.

 

 

 

 

      

     

      

 

 

 

 

      We had a quiet harvest dinner with friends on November twenty-third. It shall now and forever be known as “The Annual Mystery Glen Orphans' Dinner”. This was the first of many. I worked right through Black Friday weekend. I have no exciting updates there. Life just keeps marching forward.

 

 

    It’s been really cold at night here. And last Friday which is Black Friday, I ran into a situation. I left work and headed for the Lewis and Clark Bridge. It connects Washington and Oregon. My significant other lives in Oregon.  Well, the bridge was barred by police officers’ vehicles. It’s midnight. The only other way there besides a long drive was the ferry, which stops running at ten p.m. I called the non-emergency number only to learn there was a bad wreck.

 

    Lucky for me, my older son was just getting off work. I picked him up, and we went and walked around Winco Foods. The only place open that late. He bought us drinks before we left, and when he called dispatch, we learned the bridge was finally open to one lane. After dropping him off I made it there in about twenty minutes. Here's the takeaway. We were late by seven minutes clocking out, and I had to stop for gas. If I had been on time, I may well have been involved. I saw one of the vehicles that had flipped over. The roof was gone, having been smashed flat. I felt gratitude for having been late and avoiding the mess.

 

    I hope you all are well. I’ll be back again soon with more great updates. Off to actually write some words. I'm going to leave you with my favorite November Poem. 

 

November

"November comes And November goes, With the last red berries, And the first white snows.

With night coming early, And dawn coming late, And ice in the bucket And frost by the gate.

 The fires burn And the kettles sing, And earth sinks to rest Until next spring,

- Elizabeth Coatsworth

Love you all.