I was in an, uh, "interesting" space yesterday. Continued reading after supper, too.

Found all sorts of things -- notes from my then husband pleading with me to come back and talk to him (after the first time I left him, several years before I left for good), a letter from his mother saying she wouldn't pay the debts she said we incurred together (and he hadn't yet told her why he had a loan on the car she had given him), but wonderful, witty letters from friends I've lost touch with...or not. Description of a day kayaking out to the islands in Cape Porpoise harbor, a Maine Old Cemeteries Association (first trip completely on my own) meeting where I "fell in love" with an archaeologist and had an antiques dealer follow me home (not to mention found and did a rubbing of a slate stone carved by John Just Geyer), speaking engagements on woodstove safety that I'd almost forgotten I'd done, a Christmas Day walk on a rainy beach (Gooch's) sing loudly and scaring the gulls.

My head is pretty much aswirl in memories. I'm able, too, to put dates to events...my divorce, getting my driver's license, friends' weddings and children's births, where I was working, living, when I moved to Portsmouth, lost a contact lens after the first load was shlepped upstairs to my third floor apartment, the rumored Labor Day "tidal wave" that caused tourists to leave their meals without paying, etcet etcet.

I know there are several more caches of letters from my life before Tom, and I'm sure they'll rise to the surface one of these days. I also have a box of notebook journals from my pre-Kennebunkport mid-1970s that are really just too much to read through, though, in the past, I'd dipped into them for a few dates, a few films seen, and stuff like that.

Tom was having problems yesterday remembering what day of the week it was...I was having trouble remembering what DECADE I'm in!

Linn