Thursday, November 27, 2008


My life is so loud. My truck is loud. Work is loud enough that I should probably be wearing hearing protection. Gigs are loud. The kids are loud. I'm loud. I don't often remember this, but the quietest place that I know of is right here in my house. It's the kitchen closet.

When the house belonged to my grandparents I used to love going in there to fetch out the chess set. The light comes on when you open the door and you can close it almost all the way and it will stay on. It's full of shelves and coats and there's just enough room for a person to stand in the middle. As long as none of the other people in the house are yelling you don't know they're there. You can't hear the fridge running or traffic. It's a little room full of quiet.

There's a lot left to do tonight. Thanksgiving dinner to finish cleaning up and the ever present laundry situation. But when I'm done I'm going in there. I might even take a chair and just spend some time in there soaking up the quiet.

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  1. vanessa1:57 PM

    so does that mean i can tell people - you are out of the closet now! -JK....did you find out the baby business....little one have a bird or a koochie?

  2. sorry haven't had time to read the short story Swimmer, but I will and I'll comment.


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