Good News If Ever There Was

Someone from Heifer International was just on The Colbert Report. What a wonderful organization, and what great publicity for them. Steven said, "If you give a man a cow, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to cow...."

I've been thinking about my time there at the Heifer farm because I've been thinking a lot about my travels and different places I've lived. All due to recent breakthroughs in Seagrove, the feeling that I belong there even after only three trips, the feeling that I might just as well belong here, and the difficult but essentially beautiful realization that even if I find the perfect place to live, I will always have days where I wish I were in Paris, or Minneapolis, or Davidson, or Seagrove, or Wilmington, or some other place I pass through on my way to permanence.

Anyway, Heifer's been on my mind, and I stand in continual awe of its ideals, its system, and the way the latter serves the former so fluidly. That's rare, having the practice match the principles. There are so many great stories involved, a few from my time at the farm but so many more from people around the world. I'm thinking next book already. One of those perfect subjects that has every element I want to explore in writing: community, global stuff, efficiency/ simplicity/ earth-friendly living, God, people helping each other. Plus cute animals! Can't wait. In the meantime, I guess I better actually do something about book #1.

Two days of class left, and very little to do for those. Then a final project, one extra book to make, a couple days of grading, and we're off! Where, I don't know. Nowhere literally; I'll be right here in town for the summer, but there's no telling what job I might get and how I might be spending my time for the next three-plus months. I do know it will involve lots of reading, 'riting, and research (the 3 Rs of grad school), lazy time with friends, new frontiers in breadmaking, a desirable and very welcome move to some nicer digs, exercise, and general fun.

Oodles of Light, What a Beautiful Sight, Both of God's Eyes Are Shining Tonight

I left for Seagrove/Greensboro/Badin Lake on Friday afternoon, dropped my friend Erin off at a music festival in Pittsboro, and this afternoon when I picked her up it felt like a week since I'd seen her. So much happens every time I go to Seagrove (I wish I could make a sound effect that makes the music Patti always had on the show Doug). This time, I absolutely cracked the case, broke the story, just blew this thing out of the water. And when I say I, I mean the potters and their people. I just wish I could replay it all word for word. Tell me again about the Irish funeral. Tell me again about the cave in Belize you had to swim to get to and how the Mayan calendar is going to end in 2012. Tell me again about the cocaine, the adultery, the gambling habit, the convicted child molester manning the kids' tent, tell me again about the gunshot story. (I was acting even more writerly than usual, in that way writers have of going, "Hells yeah!" when something utterly horrific is revealed.) Oh, and tell me again about how great my book is going to be and how many people will buy it. You know who you are. Every single person I talked to was more helpful, informative, articulate, and passionate than I would have dared to ask for, and that's not counting the surprises. It's almost scary now, having all this information just bestowed upon me. I'm acutely conscious of the nonfiction writer's responsibility toward her subjects, and really glad there are other people whose job it is to deal with legal issues and that that's much later. For now, I just feel like the luckiest girl in the world, who is going to have the best thesis ever. Who cares if I didn't do the other work I planned to do this weekend? My thesis is my commitment now, and some other areas of my life are henceforth going to be imperfect. (Ha. "Henceforth," because, you know, it's all been flawless until now.)

I must have listened to my John Prine CD five or seven times today, first to get in the Seagrove mood and then because Erin hadn't heard it. When the first song ("Illegal Smile") came on, she nodded and said, "This sounds right."

Here's something my computer said to me: "Exception has been thrown by the target of an invocation." Each word is familiar, but together they just don't make sense. It would be awesome as heavy metal lyrics, though.