This morning I did one of my most-favored things that comes with this life - waltzing in the kitchen with a shining little child. August is 10 months and we spun & sung amongst the pots & pans as the snowplows unearthed a chilly Boston and the cat tried to steer clear of my feet. Gus' dad is a college friend - one of the "overthrow the state" friends with stars inked on his elbows and plugs still in his ears, now a union organizer, brimming with fire (as ever). And it fills me with such awe & excitement that he and other friends like him are choosing fatherhood, parenthood.

They're a model I never knew. These friends on whose couches I'd pass out (or they on mine) after we exhausted our drunken fury over our president & nation's place in this world. These friends I'd drive with for 20 hours to be just another body, protesting a war we couldn't fathom or stop. Now these friends are focusing their fury and working wisely within the communities they've chosen and trudging loads of cloth diapers down to the basement to wash - and happily. My friend just grins and, in his way that's still a kid, says fatherhood is the coolest thing ever. And Gus' favorite toy is a pumpkin he rolls around on the floor.

Tour is good; it's steady reminders that do me good. It's distance and a mind set to make sense of things and more able for all the space in between. That said, I'm counting the days down, for home is positively aglow with possibility. With a hopeful heart, I remain, rachel