Tender expectancy

Monday 24 January, 2011:

I go to school to get stuff ready for next week. There’s a safe feeling in my room, which brings to mind everyone who’s ever sought and found haven there. So I breathe it in… and I feel as soothed as Tau always did (and maybe he still does within these four little sheltering walls.

I’m peaceful for a few moments. In my heart is a feeling of such tender expectancy. Love for the struggle – because it’s hopeful, and it’s brave, and we’re forbearing and resourceful and patient. And that’s a strengthening thought, in this quiet week before it all starts up again. The shifting pull of alliances; the exploitation of any little crack of freedom glimpsed up ahead, and prised open.


Tuesday 25 January:

Laptop and network issues occupy a lot of my time today; I don’t get much work done. But Lorna calls back. She tells me more about the place near Municipal, saying, “It’s streets ahead of the places you’ve seen!” It’s on its own section, has a lock up garage; an apple tree… she gives me the address and tells me she isn’t going to list it until I’ve seen it.

She’s going quite to a bit of trouble for me – and I appreciate it. But all the same, the money’s not just sitting there. If it’s the right place though? Then I’ll have to try.

I’m kind of surprised at myself for having got even this far. I’m less scared than I thought I would be, actually.


Wednesday 26 January:

love the house, from the outside – which is as much of it as I see. And I fill out an application – which is a formality at this stage – but Lorna actually tells me that she will ‘certainly’ be recommending me to the landlord.


Thursday 27 January:

Lorna rings again, and arranges to show me (and only me) through the property today at lunch. She says she’s going to give me a sneak preview when she goes to put the ‘For Rent’ sign up.

So we go – and I love the house even more than I did before. I feel, despite any residual caution, totally attached to the idea of getting it.

At the end of the day though, it’s up to the landlord. Still, it seems that Lorna’s putting me ahead of everyone else. A couple pull up just as she drives off after our viewing today. The woman gets out and asks me, “Was that the real estate agent?” and “Did she show you through?” I lie and said I’ve only seen the outside, and she was just there to put up the sign (which has in fact just gone up). I don’t care – they can all take their chances tomorrow.

I clicked with Lorna from the moment I met her – and for some reason she’s really backing me. So maybe


La-Verne’s at school today – wearing her hair all down, and a little T shirt with shiny gold flowers.  I tell her about all this and, “Why does she think you’d be a good bet?” she says, teasing me. “I suppose it’s because you’re a teacher.” She adds, “If only she know you were Queen of the gangstas,” and we start laughing.

Oh, but I really want it. I almost wish I didn’t care, and that things could just stay how they are for a while longer. I feel so unsettled; so open; so ungrounded. As if I’m not weighted to all the usual places by all the usual means. As if I’ve calmly opened my palms to let go of the moorings and be pulled along by some kind of current. Going where? And again, I don’t think I control the timing. But I need to navigate these circumstances, in this time.


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