Settling In Gently by R.A.Davis

My brilliant grandmother, the gifted crossword puzzler, rejoices in novel words-- never-before heard verbal oddities and anachronisms, junked slang and clique-ish codespeak--and the way new words travel in flocks. Hear a new word today? You'll see it three times tomorrow. Try it: skeeve! Ossify! Putrefaction! I think sensitive topics run in packs, too. Some hot-button theme gets all stirred up in the ether, and all of my conversations get pulled towards its gravitational weight. That must mean that there's a mystery-- a missing puzzle piece, some ambiguity or anxiety-- some friction that I carry around with me, buzzing like a hive-- that forces itself into every interaction until the beast is appeased, the topic exhausted, the lines drawn. The last couple of weeks it's been school. And religion. And race. And their mangled and unholy intersection. My kid is almost four and not in preschool. This comes out of my profound denial more than a particular choice in the pro-sc...

It's cold. My toes, in my boots, are numb. I am sitting inside and my borrowed pea-coat is buttoned and my scarf if warming my lap. I am enjoying a short morning to myself-- and I braved a crunchily icy road to come to the coffee shop. I am on vacation from Hawaii-- not forever, just for a few months. Just long enough to freeze up a little-- to solidify after 6 years of unctious sweaty tropical heat. We got to the airport and giggled-- all these haoles! They all look alike! Stocky pioneer faces, Danish cheekbones-- my people! Rosie gasped when she saw other kids with white-blond hair.