unkindness of ravens

i've wanted to write about ravens for a while. they get a bad rap. native people in some areas think them harbingers of evil, some others revere them. i guess that is how it goes, can't please everyone.

i am quite fond of the raven. trickster that he is. i hadn't seen many around the entire time i've lived here, but they have begun moving in. perhaps it was too rural and they are inclined to scavenge. not sure.

either way, to be so lustrously black you're almost blue is inspiring to me.

i'm packing like a mad woman and my friends are telling me, pick up the pace suz. you're not going to make it. i keep thinking, i'm not going to make it if i do pick up the pace. my back has never ached for the sake of aching. which now, it does. feels like a metal rod is shooting through it.

i'm tired and cried myself awake this morning. hadn't had that experience before. like i didn't get enough of the tears out during the waking hours, i began to weep while i was sleeping.

i don't know what God has up His sleeve, but i hope He's like the samurai with all kinds of junk up there. because i need several successive miracles, the kind israel needed, to get free from this bondage. to find my way out of slavery.

my stuff rules my life, apparently. my husband doesn't want me to take my books with me. he may as well have told me to not take my clothes. what will i do without my books. everything else i am willing to part with, but my books are a familiar comfort.

maybe i can take less clothes. but i do have about a hundred boxes (rather small, 12x6x6) full of books. and i have to leave them here in texas for a while. in storage.

Lord have mercy. i hadn't planned on that happening. i need an unkindness of ravens to come and feed me sweet meats to keep me alive, for i am famished.