4-27-09 Here is the most recent bunch of stuff that I have sent to Jadene in the past week. I am not sending a copy of this to Francine; due to my sense that you would be a better judge of what of my writings to share with your mom, and what, maybe, not to. I hope that you are in reception of more & more in the way of understandings that excite you to further investigation and that your other interests & activities are filling in the resumé with a sense of good times having been had. I feel pretty burnt on this responding to Jadene's letter of late March that exhibited too much disarray, disarming my senses of a secure pleasantness to the major bulk of my life; to that point wherein I had penned fifty pages in response to all of what that letter triggered in me. & still: I lay here trying to think up distractions but my mind keeps wandering back to more responses that I wonder whether or not I should also commit them to a printed page; and jot them down in my 700 (12 inch tall) page diary, now at page 350 after 16 months of jotting down stuff in there, to re-read later and try to decide what might appear as worthy of trying to tell her, and what, maybe, isn't. In desperation, I went to the Coquille Art Center's annual book sale & bought 19 books for 16 dollars, hoping I may have secured enough fresh reading material to, maybe, get me beyond this distraction now, so that I can re-attempt to re-gather my mind, so that, maybe, I can come up with some ideas that, maybe, might help me toward my survival urges' desires to keep plugging away upon the accomplishing of the many chores that these next few months 'tell' me that I'd better get on with the doing of..... One book in particular, I was very happy to find there was the first book by an author whose work has had a profound impact upon my overall mindset's thinkings. I have a request into the Myrtle Point library's computerized list of such things, for: If they ever decide to render his books as obsolete: I request them that they notify me when they decide this and offer them to me before just putting them out in their annual book sale. Ralph Moody grew up with all the smarts of his ancestors intact & operational in his brain, and writes them all down in the most straightforward, easily-absorbable way that I have ever encountered in an author whose subject matter appeals to my curiosity to know more of these old timey smarts; primarily motivated by my understanding that what is going on in the mainstream doesn't work like the old timey ones did; is meaner, less helpful. This one, his first, published in 1950: Little Britches, plus his next four books, accurately chronicle life as he experienced it, up through about his mid-to-late twenties—covering the years 1906 through about to the 'great' (?) depression, & I very much want for you to, at some point in your life, to become able to also glean the fineness that was the texture of home life before automobiles and technology shoved it all aside in favor (?) of this not so brave new world that we have to endure, or die in the not-very-pretty circumstances of anxious grief and their associated stressfulnesses, etc. etc. I am, & have been for a very long time, dedicated to dying with a pleasant sense of my life having not been as bad as it could be judged by those who get off on judging others.
seeya
P.S: oh: if you ever think of coming over here, you've something I want but can't remember what it is just now . . .
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