The trade winds here in Majuro, on the other hand, never change; they are nearly always from the east. When you look for a storm, you normally look to the east. Metaphorically, however, we've got winds changing every which-way. We're about to sell our old '99 Saturn, visit old friends we haven't seen in years, buy a winter-worthy vehicle, move to a French-speaking city (Montreal, our next post), buy lots of winter coats, and drink from tap water again (glory be!).
Yes. I am. I was accepted to Bennington College and will pursue an MFA in writing—fiction track. As it is a low-residency format, I will be able to do my assignments from home (reading and writing doesn't feel like an assignment anymore—more like directed happy time), and then every six months, in June and January, I will drop my son off at his grandparents' house in New York and attend an intensive 10-day seminar at Bennington College on writing and literature. Then it's back to reading and writing for another six months. It will be a wonderful adventure, although I admit to feeling trepidatious at times. [trepidatious, adj.: feeling trepidation, anxious, uneasy, nervous. Old word in the OED. I prefer to say trepidous.]
You know, I think the people in Will Halloway and Jim Nightshade's town also sensed something in the air in Something Wicked This Way Comes . . . let's hope that this change is of the Mary Poppins variety.
::zoom on weather vane, showing that it is also a lightning rod . . . wind intensifies::