Police killing civilians.
And now Baton Rouge. Again.
These are tough times all around. Tough times with no easy solutions. There is very little that is clear cut, other than to just stop killing each other. It’s dark down here on the ice. But, I think it is darker back home. I am looking from the outside in as the world seems to be falling apart.
This past weekend, we got mail. There were encouraging letters from friends and family. Letters of support and love and warm places. Silly hats and a new fleece sweater and all kinds of things.
Living down here is so foreign to most people, and understandably so, that folks aren’t really quite sure what to send, or if they should send anything at all. Certainly, there is no certainty about what will turn up on mail day. Or if mail day will even happen when it is supposed to – I’m still waiting on things from April.
At this last round, someone thought the best thing to send me, while I am in the midst of Antarctic Winter, in the cold and dark, with all the tragedy going on at home, was a hula hoop.
She was right. I hula’d the shit out of that hoop last night. And then I went climbing. And it was enough.
So I’m sending love back up north. Back up to “civilization.”
But I’m keeping the Hula Hoop.