Back In a Hole

Lack of posting? Blame it on our move. Not to Seattle–that dearly depressive town–as seemed possible last fall, but across town, a matter of blocks, motivated by love and a desire to cut expenses (see the myth of “two can live as cheaply as one”). Relocation is a great American tradition in times of economic duress (see The Grapes of Wrath and move to Seattle above). The regal right has championed the practice in the last 10 years as a solution for unemployment; i.e. go where the jobs are. The problem with that theory is that the unemployed seldom have the resources to accomplish such a move. And now that the employment climate is stormy across the entire country, well, where would you go? My move was not in search of employment—we’ve kept our day job– but from one rabbit hole to another, this one smaller, darker and stuffier. Life in a basement is part Notes From Underground and part Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Not that we identify with either those characters. I’m a rabbit, not a mouse. Too much lucidity has never been our problem, especially in a lack of daylight. And we just don’t look good in a pinafore. Anyway, the unpacking (we finally found our underwear yesterday) , setting up a desk, establishing an internet connection (we still don’t have a phone in this bunker) and exorcising whatever evil spirits dwell beneath the foundation of a 120-year-old former farm house set us back. And here–down again–we are.Cabbage Rabbit

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