victoria thorne: 8/1/10

6.8.10

dear tea and cactus,

i was 23 (almost 24) when i had my first young 'un.

he turns 27 on monday, and is off to see his brother

(one of them) in germany. so happy. now i wonder:

did i look like this? in my mind's eye and thru the

lens of time, i think (wink) i might have. well...

almost? well. well? at least my hair was red.

here's what i started to say: dear tea and cactus,

this is wonderful. have traveled to see you, often,

from lovely, lovely theue. thank you.

"Breathless and transfixed the Mole stopped rowing as the liquid run of that glad piping broke on him like a wave, caught him up, and possessed him utterly. He saw the tears on his comrade's cheeks, and bowed his head and understood. For a space they hung there, brushed by the purple loose-strife that fringed the bank; then the clear imperious summons that marched hand-in-hand with the intoxicating melody imposed its will on Mole, and mechanically he bent to his oars again. And the light grew steadily stronger, but no birds sang as they were wont to do at the approach of dawn; and but for the heavenly music all was marvellously still."