Not so good. It is a case of not seeing the other trees well enough because you have been so focused on one tree. I can’t do the forest thing because I am not talking about a lot of trees, just a couple – not even a grove. Living with a child whose condition challenges a normal social order at home has a high price, perhaps not always, but this time, yes. It surprised me; I thought the stabilization of things would open up a world of opportunities for one of those trees, but instead we heard “Timber!” echoing through the now much quieter house.

I think when I was thinking of them as trees, I forgot what trees do – they get rooted in a place, slanted a certain way by a prevailing wind. Still, I want to say, “Reach up.” And, you know what, the part of  AmeliaJake that is not real cool feels like snapping out sarcastically, “Well, what kind of timber are you anyway?” I have to realize that not everyone gets their dander up and shouts back, “I’ll show you.”

I am at a loss. I am out of my league. People are who they are. I am who I am.

And I have to hand it to Der Bingle; no matter what, he stands like an oak. I have leaned on him for a long, long time . . . and he has let me.

So have I learned anything? Do I have anything left in my bag of abilities? Well, maybe I can start by humming Buckle Down Winsocki, Buckle Down. (I think when you buckle up, you are just along for the ride . . . and buck up is like buckle down. I’m rambling I know; I do that a lot. )

And Elmer over there at the table by the pot-belly stove is shaking ihs head and sighing the whisper, “Whatever, but we’re up to our eyeballs in it now.”