Alas, my wait is at an end and this chick is gainfully EMPLOYED.

WOOT WOOT !!!!! and HALLELUJAH

When I was leaving the interview, the interviewer says “don’t worry, I was were you are 2 years ago. It will be ok.” Man. He was my age, actually, he said he chose my file because I graduated from High School the same year he did. Imagine that. I walked out the doors, and lit up one of my cylinders of sin (of course) and tears ran down my face as I was crossing the road. Tears. Man. Why? I walked down the sidewalk, puffing away, trying to stop the water works, and more so figure out what the tears were for. Joy? Relief? The interviewers act of kindness? All of that I suppose.

I thought of Tim. At how much my life was going to change, again. Now that I have a job, for the next few weeks it will be a bit of a juggling act getting in and out, as I don’t drive (never have).

I went in this morning to sign the papers, and my sister picked me up, as she had a doctor’s appointment. In the parking lot of the food joint we ate at, these darling little Goldfinches were feasting on thistle. We both agreed that they probably got the better meal, certainly healthier. Such as the life in a city – access to fast food, but not often if you’re a bird, so they were a rare treat to share our meal with. So I had to share.

So next I have to find digs in the booming metropolis of London, Ontario. Some little pad, cheap and neat, maybe on a quiet street. With some shade trees, and a nearby park. Which, after all shouldn’t be that hard since London is supposed to be the FOREST CITY. Ahem.

I suppose too, my blogging time will diminish. So don’t expect much from me over the next month. I also have the Heritage Book stuff on the go, and that needs to be a priority. Well, and a pleasure. This space though is, after all, MY temenos. So I will check in, and follow as much as I can everyone’s posts…but, again, don’t expect much. I WANT to write, though maybe I may just stick to poetry, since that can be written in small notebooks I can carry around with me. I can just imagine these scrawling, jumbled lines of chaotic words with no seeming connection.

Perhaps every now and again I’ll copy out a bit of the Red Duo-tang, or one of Grandma Norman’s poems. Who knows, but expect the unexpected.

I’m off now to get some tidying up done, and then later I plan on sipping on a nice cold alcoholic beverage, or three, and celebrating the next phase of this incredible journey. Really, I can’t think of any other more apt description of these last, heck, years of my life. From one lake to another, and now I’m back on the banks of the river I grew up next to. I’m farther ahead then the last time, I’ve less dragging me down, and the spiraling way of life moves forth.

AAaaaWooooshh !!! off again :)