Maybe don’t try to do people’s imagining for them. just be their 1931 bottle sticking out of the dirt. give them the markings, the embossed clues, the seam; let them look up the significance; let them put themselves in the place of the person who opened it, drank from it, discarded it way back when Creativity derives from deprivation 0726 Drove to Palisades in the white 03 Silverado; camped. Played in river. Cooked pizza pockets in the rain. Fairy role play. Butterfly hill. A million stars, milky way. 0727 Bacon and sausage over camp stove. Drove second half. Cinderella the musical at BHP. 0728 walked up to Custer sign. played around on backyard boulders. Scrapes and bruises. Grocery shopping; everything’s expensive. Investigated dryer vent in crawl space. Pasta dish, baguette, red wine on back patio; feeling of sublimity. 0729 Black Elk Peak; a little complaining on the way up; breathing hard; but worth it; fed chipmunks; passed Cinderella on the trail on the way back. Ate at Kathmandu in Rapid. 0730 me and lib made sausage eggs gravy. rock shops. mount rushmore; convo about rights and political parties and freedom and cooperation and democracy and forming real opinions vs the internet. long way back through the tunnels. scenic overlook. rain. sun shining on black elk peak in the distance. mexican train. lib made ice cream cake for cel. they found a mouse in the loft; lib freaked out a bit but cel talked her down (mostly) but they ended up coming back over to the house to sleep on the floor after all; there were 20 *more* moths after that and cel was too tired to vacuum them up again 0731 made blueberry pancakes with a bit of cherry yogurt. took the needles highway (it’s getting a bit crowded with rally bikers and whatnot) up to sylvan to go swimming. swam to a couple of the big boulders; sunned on them to get warm. back at the house, dad made grocery list for tacos and tried to cover up for having put tomatoes on there twice. lib made guac and prepped everything. ate outside. tiny rain shower. lib and cel sang in squeaky voices while doing dishes. ruth a bit drunk on grey goose, blown away by their energy and radiance. gus got the zoomies. ruth crashed on couch while lib, dad, and i looked at old recipes, incl some of the ones typed up on my old smith corona. dad remembers when he was about six years old, his mom sending him out to the field to tell his dad that the war was over, that we had won the war. cel wrote in journal. lib and cel slept on floor again; the plan is to call an exterminator today. 0801 wildlife loop: pronghorn, burros, prairie dogs. a round fat beetle that pissed on a rock. lib and cel, especially cel LOVED the burros; fed them an apple. racer guy at end said where the buffalo were so we turned around, went back, up gravel road, saw them. lots of cars. cel got pic of baby running. got out of truck but got back in real soon when they started moving a tad closer. Wind cave park: another herd, one massive old guy really close. a coyote watching, smiling. more prairie dogs. Hot springs: groceries from Dakotamart; picnic at centennial park. 103°. Mammoth site; gave ourselves a tour. Chatauqua park: swimming in the little pool; they slipped through the little concrete tube. Sang songs about burros. Home by way of Sydney park road. Ruth and dad (mostly ruth) miffed at how late it was; said they were worried. Jim sees oncologist tomorrow; ruth’s kind of a mess; kind of drunk again tho not as much as last night. Mexican train: chaotic, loud, slow. Dad remembered the rules a little better. At one point while ruth was doing the loud goofy stuff, cel said I can’t take it any more! about a fourth joking maybe, and looked at phone as a way of taking a break. The exterminator is supposed to call back tomorrow. 0802 slow morning. put up gus’s pool, took him for a walk, brought him back so he could flop in it and guzzle water and play catch with the blue brush. went back to wildlife loop: saw goats on the way, pronghorns, bison but there were a lot of cars so it was kind of shitty, finally the burros and the girls fed them plenty. one of them stepped on my toe and it hurt. some friendly know-it-alls from north carolina gave the girls extra carrots. back at the house we messed around for a while getting megan and millie on a call to say happy birthday to her but got off quick cuz she was on her way to dinner with her friends. i hope she’s ok. millie texted to say she was making egg nog. i hope she’s ok. ruth talked to jim on the porch for a long time while we scrounged leftovers; not necessarily good news but not necessarily bad; some tension broke temporarily. cel went for a walk by herself and watched deer leap gracefully over fences. dad got worried and took the tundra to look for her just as she was coming back up the road. char and jack brought over leftovers from the other neighbors’ party: pulled pork, etc. lib and i brought down the “big” tv to watch Zombies 2; dad and ruth fell asleep for most of it. 0803 dad was maybe gonna go to the cave with us but the shingles (unless that’s not what it really is god forbid) is still bothering him so no. cave tour was awesome; ranger guide seemed annoying at first but then we liked him. libby was voluntold to be junior ranger and led the group for a bit and wear the $300 stetson. we went to wyoming because we could; ate at wayback burger. it was a little dirty but good. there was a passel of australian harley people outside. took the trash down to the dumpster with dad but he forgot half of it and was about to throw the recycling in with the trash. drumsticks for dessert. continued mexican train; ruth drinking heavily again with limited how long cel could stand it so we quit at double one. they’re all out on the deck but i’m ready for bed. 0804 *‌morning note* dreamed i worked at a new somehow special kind of cafe. realized we needed a way to keep track of certain customer interaction stuff and volunteered to go home and make spreadsheets for it; i was excited to be able to contribute directly and meaningfully. woke up even more bummed about my real-life job progression & insecurity & all the bullshit. I’m both nervous and bored. thought about Arts at Large. I just need to make 60k minimum, preferably more with the possibility for growth. What now? Dad still bothered by the shingles(?) didn’t go to Reptile Gardens with us after all. It was hot. A water bottle (no bubblers available) was $3. I had mixed feeligs because it’s a zoo; snakes in small containers, dragging an alligator around by its tail, etc. Picked up pizzas in Hill City on way back. Cel said it was very good and loved the margherita one. Finished the Mexican Train game, this time fairly calmly. Woke up in middle of night hearing the coyotes wailing. Am tired and feeling a little short on oxygen this morning (0805). 0805 took gus to stockade lake to swim. he retrieved the tennis ball with aplomb and effective loved it. came back, showered, lib napped, ruth napped then talked to jim who doesn’t really know anything new. she said being in the lake even a little bit made her feel better and she could breathe better. grilled burgers on the gas grill. got like ten drops of rain and now a breeze and it’s cooling off. played Probe (lol) with lib and cel; still a good game. cel said she felt dumb but was truly hilarious about it. i gave the girls the bedroom and came over to the loft. spent a long time killing moths and settling in. kind of needed my own space for a while; it’s a faint bother kind of akin to being a little bit constipated 0806 woke up at 2:42 and couldn’t get back to sleep. was super bummed and self-recriminating about having to decide to xcl French Creek plan for the day because I didn’t want to do it exhausted. (Postponed feeling glum a bit while taking semi-decent pix of two owls on the aspen a few yards away from the loft porch.) I thought they were fake at first. Much of the reason I couldn’t sleep was that I was worrying about the girls doing it... the Narrows, particularly. All the details. One feature of getting older seems to be worrying more. So, bummed; worrying about the weather tomorrow, the “you will get wet,” the “what the fuck are people saying with ‘this is a moderate hike’ lol” stories on the travel blogs and whatnot; about to give up on it altogether and sulk a bit (when did it become a big deal anyway? for whose benefit was I even playing the part of being committed to it?) when Cel saved me by saying, “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.” I let that sink in, then felt about 20 lbs lighter. So we plan to park at the East end tomorrow and go as far as we want to, and turn back if we want to. Problem solved. Took the subaru up to Sylvan, accidentally the long way, avoiding the neverending infestation of bikers. Ruth went, still worried and distracted and hurting, but seemed ok. She sat by the lake while we went around; girls scrambled on some of the big rocks; we picked a ton of little delicious raspberries and held them in lib’s hat. Made cowboy ice cream with the berries; kicked the bucket up and down the slope for I guess not long enough because it didn’t set up all the way; still good though. Dad said what flavor would it be if gus peed on it; I said Yello Sno®; Cel said no, Golden Sno®. Yeah, that’s better. Lib made steamed buns with the leftover bbq pork from the neighbor’s party. Dad & girls & I walked Gus to the end of the road in picturesque perfect breezy sundown. Played a bit of Uno with the girls before coming over here to the loft where there are definitely far, far fewer moths now. There is however bug shit on the walls. This place definitely needs to be cleaned. It makes me feel what’s that word? Nostalgic for something that’s not even completely gone yet. But you know it is or will soon be slipping away. Somebody had a word for that, but I can’t find it right now. There is lightning in the distance, over towards town and the hills to the north. Somewhere along in here I thought about how I constantly emotionally adjust to keep up with Ruth’s vicissitudes. Learned how over the course of many years. To a certain extent you learn how to do that with anyone, but with her it’s a more delicate, sensitive flight pattern. That’s why the kids sometimes have trouble—if you don’t know the tricks and quirks of the car, plane, bike, horse, whatever, you’re gonna get thrown off. Maybe some of it’s me projecting (ugh); maybe she’s not as fragile (brittle?) as I think. But then why would I think it? Thunder. Maybe the creek will be plump and pulsing after all. It’s actually raining *here* at the cabin, at least a little bit. I hope the grass at home is ok. I hope millie’s ok. I hope the process of getting new neighbors doesn’t become a nightmare. Ugh. back to school and all that bs. Ugh. But it’s not *all* bs. Some of it was be doing a shittier job last year, at some things. I don’t want anyone to hate themselves; i would rather take that on myself. I actually just want everyone to be happy. Dad did remember to put the bike ruth’s giving cel into the garage before the rain came. Or maybe that’s not why he did it. But at least he remembered that. 0807 took dad’s truck, went the long way thru wildlife loop to get to the trailhead but that meant we got to see the burros again. we went in. grass was wet and not of it and other underbrush and small trees and shrubs than i remembered from last time. (probably bc of 2017 fire). girls bickered a bit about who slapped who with what tree branch but got over it. trail quickly disappeared and we were in the creek. very slow going. some soups and little falls but no injuries. they need new shoes. libby resisted getting fully wet for a while but it was futile. she wanted to turn back for a while but we talked her out of it. she seemed glum, said she was kinda bored, wished there was something for her to “do.” sore throat? or maybe it was because i kept telling her to be careful: she said “it makes me feel like you think i can’t do it.” maybe just tired. in any case, seemed like she got into the flow of it more as we went on, and returned to her usual lib dog sarcastic ebullience. cel was pretty much gung ho at this point. lunch on flat rock underneath the layered overhang of thousands of years of history. talked about animals and intelligence. at the narrows lib climbed (scary), we threw the backpack and fanny pack and shoes over to her, cel scrambled around the edge of the pool, i swam. (less swimming required than i remembered from last time.) found the trail not long after that, thought it would be easy then but we still had HOURS to go. cruised and recrossed creek, generally shallower now. finally got a signal, so ruth and dad figured out where to wait for us (horse camp). spiders, radial webs and cluster? webs. minnows. crawfish. frogs. awesome striped fat toad. goldfinch. hawk. heron? larval worms. ticks. trout. bison poo, elk poo? coyote poo? deer tracks, coyote tracks? or cat? waterfalls. moss. mirrored pools. those breathtaking, towering cliffs. raspberries. cel saying we’re losing daylight. them singing. left my stick at the narrows. scrapes, bubbles, bumps, bruises. blisters. looks like cel has some little pebbles that actually made little holes in her foot; hafta watch that for infection. charred black tree trunks. mud that sucks you in. grass that cuts you. burrs. loose treacherous wet rocks. picking different routes. a smashed poptart was an exquisite snack. jogging for short spells just to use different muscles for a while. me being reticent during their brief role plays made me think about how much like my dad i am sometimes. four different snakes, then finally the baby rattlesnake towards the end. the brilliant moon. so tired, punchy. our feet were solid brown wherever our shoes weren’t, when we finally got back to the truck and took em off. We really wanted to go to the game lodge for supper but it was too late. i owe cel a quail now. 0808–0809 it’s a blur. Badlands was too fucking hot and we were all half sick from exhaustion. Libs face started swelling from poison ivy. AAA said the Super 8 on the east side of Sioux falls was highly rated but it was pretty sketchy. Don’t believe me? ask the pizza delivery guy who was too fucking cute for words omfg (Native American? or mexican or something?? only neck tattoos i’ve ever liked). drove all day today. at mom’s. realized my expectations of her don’t match reality. she’s calcified as much as my dad In different ways ofc) but somehow i still need her not to be. what’s that about? listened to a fucking awesome ezra klein ep featuring Kathryn Bond Stockton, and it made me so happy to hear someone else say it’s ok to choose to be gay. or queer. or whatever the fuck you want. lemme put it this way, i gave up my 30s, i lost my 40s, i will CUT YOU if you try and come for my 50s 0810 took lib to clinic for steroid shot; seems to be working. mississippi roast for dinner. mom made casual racist assumptions about a couple by the walking trail. played SkipBo; the girls joke accused her of stacking the deck and she said “if i knew how, i would!”; she won, saying it was the first time she’d won a game in years. watched a game show but everyone screams too much on tv these days 0811 shoe shopping, mom got upset with cel for having different values than she has. nancy and bailey came for supper (pulled pork); devin invited himself and his girlfriend (new kindergarten teacher, early 20s) but not by asking mom directly; via nancy instead, which upset mom. at the table we were talking about life before cell phones and devin said “yeah like back when i was little, when you were helping raise me, and we’d go walking in the woods and stuff”—why does he think i helped raise him? it’s nice that remembers things like when i carried that big concrete ball all the way back to the house on a whim, but *helped raise?* Also he talked about his therapy sessions as if we were all close confidants. I mean good for him for doing it, but the urge to bring it up in conversation right away makes me think of the *false epiphany* concept. I was thinking mom was probably thinking it was probably crass to talk about stuff like that at the table—just another symptom of today’s trauma-saturated entertainment world. 0812 bailey took girls to burritoville; they didn’t see devin cause he was in back but the food was good. while they were gone, moon and i swapped in the working receiver from the back bedroom for the overheating one in the family room. it was very complicated because of the ridiculous tangle of wires, but we figured it out and congratulated ourselves and then had a good cry because that mess of wires made us think of don. cape splash. fun but not as exciting as in past years. a lot of fat people there, a lot of trash tattoos. leftovers. ice cream. lib made cookies. played Taboo and me and cel won. played SkipBo and cel was caustic with me when i didn’t play the card she needed. i tried not to show it hurt my feelings. i tried not to dwell on the element in her sarcastic mode that reminds me of her mom. mom won, surprising herself. jeopardy re-run from before any was a champion. password. maybe jimmy fallon is not as horrible as the girls at gawker say. 082022 (≅2am) i’ve been in pretty much constant discomfort since we got home. constipation. fatigue. dullness. fog. malaise. dejection. congestion. insomnia. pointlessness. low level dread. just generalized misery unless we’re watching tv. 082022 It’s not your fault you exist. It’s not really your parents’ fault either, or their parents.... Fault, the whole concept, is more of an administrative convenience, a social organizing principle, than anything inherent or empirical anyway. Because free will is a shared fiction, etc etc. You know all that stuff already. What I’m trying to say is, perhaps you could let go of — what’s the word for when you blow something up into a much more panicky big deal than it has to be? Catastrophizing? Is that a word? Maybe you could stop doing that about not just whether or not your pickup truck is going to rust (when what you’re really worried about is your dad losing his memory); not just whether or not you’ve chosen the best music streaming service (when what you really fear is no one ever finding you and your life worthy of investment and love ever again); but even about more big, blobby uncontainable things, like whether you’re “happy” or “sad” or whether it’s “fair” or not or whether you can “handle” things like having to choose between a handful of scary options when it comes to having to piss all the time, and now—hey hey!—being constipated to boot—or whether your insurance is going to pay for any of them anyway, or whether you’ll even have insurance once you lose your job to politics or the debilitating effects of this slow-burn depression that seems to have settled down around you even as a murky phlegm has settled around that one tight spot in your lungs. I mean, when you get right down to it, what’s the difference? The pattern of the dots is what the pattern of the dots is. You exist; that’s a profound tautology. Some of the dots “make you” “feel like shit,” some of them “make you” “want to try to do something about it.” Whatever happens next—whatever you try, whatever you try to ignore, whatever unstable cliff you fall off of, whatever path you roll down, whatever cancer or void of despair finally eats you up—it’s nobody’s fault. So cut out the dramatics—unless the dramatics are something “you” find “fun”—and maybe get more like the small of army of finches and sparrows currently lining up to gorge themselves on the seeds and suet libby filled up the feeders with yesterday. Only don’t gorge yourself. Because then you really will feel like shit. And you still won’t be *able* to shit. I just get the feeling if I wait until I’m presentable to become visible, the only thing legible about my visibility will be my obituary. Also a pithy sentence, like a spiffy purchase, sometimes fills you up before you get to the main course. (But you knew that already too. Dear god Im repeating myself) 082122 screwed up by needlessly reminding cel that she’s “poor”, thus shitting all over her fun day that she had at the mall with her friend. to continue to try to apologize for that at this point would just be about me, not her, so i just gotta eat it. yes i did mean well and was just trying to say “i’m concerned” and i’d say not much more than less than half of it was just me being jealous of a family that can impulse shop at mall stores, but that doesn’t matter. she’s however old she is now, she’s into her own story not mine (all of a sudden, like overnight, the way it always happens) and so me falsely thinking i’ve explained something eloquently when i’ve really just made reassuring dad blandishments isn’t going to cut it anymore. Some things they really do have to learn for themselves, and you trying to “get out in front of it” really just amounts to a cruelly ingenuous form of taunting. shame about that ......and then she brought it up: Celi Schulte: idk im not rly upset it wasnt a big deal i think it just kinda sucked lol cuz thr way u linda worded it wad like since im poor anf shes way richer in some cases wr cant have a healthy relationship yk and that just mafe me kind of sad bc ive never rly cared that we werent roch before idk 🤷‍♂️ Mat Schulte: i know, i realize that i did that all wrong. I was putting my insecurities on you and i didn’t mean to and i’m sorry for that it’s perfectly fine that you had a good day with your friend and that you have a good friend and that’s truly the main thing and incidentally, we’re not actually like *poor* poor, i mean there’s levels of that and we’re ok Celi Schulte: yeah i know Mat Schulte: but either way that’s just details. it doesn’t have to matter just cuz of some old guy’s baggage 😉 it’s perfectly fine that you had a good day with your friend and that you have a good friend and that’s truly the main thing Celi Schulte: ig i just got kindof overally sad (bc im dramatic alot🥹) bc i was excited to come home anf show u guys the clothes but it just surprised me how u reacted lol Mat Schulte: i know, i did figure that out but felt like continuing to try to press the issue would be more making it about me than anything really helping you,,,,, so i’m glad you brought it up lol Celi Schulte: yeahh, but like did that lind of thing ever like happen to u or??? cuz ik ur older so yk more but still Mat Schulte: well yeah those kinds of dynamics have affected me in some ways.. but not like some kind of big dramatic blowup story or anything… like i said, it’s probably just my own shit, hangups, whatever Celi Schulte: mhm🫂 Celi Schulte: yeah, ig and im not saying something likr that wont ever happen to me bc it def might Mat Schulte: and the clothes are super cute. i love the purple cow pants Celi Schulte: yasame Mat Schulte: sure it might, but it’s one of those things you’ll learn on your own, for yourself, in your own way. that’s the part it’s sometimes hard for me (for most parents/??) to remember sometimes and it might not, who knows either way, it’s your own story, and it’s not my job to shit all over it just because i “got trust issues” lolololol sure it might, but it’s one of those things you’ll learn on your own, for yourself, in your own way. that’s the part it’s sometimes hard for me (for most parents/??) to remember sometimes Celi Schulte: yea Mat Schulte: either way, it’s your own story, and it’s not my job to shit all over it just because i “got trust issues” lolololol Celi Schulte: 😭😭 😭 = to trust issues Mat Schulte: ahhhh Celi Schulte: trust issues suckkkk:(( but its good u realize that u have them yk and like ur aware of it insteaf of just ignoring that Mat Schulte: well yeah up to a point… but i also realize that just being aware of something over and over again can become a way to ignore it, if that makes sense…. 🤓 Celi Schulte: it kinda does ya but anywayssss im gonna write for alittle and then sleep so gn i love you ❤️❤️ Mat Schulte: i love you too 🥰 082322 maybe sometimes saying “I’m tired of gender binaries” is better than nothing, even if you have to refer your imagined counterpart to a book in order to even begin to explain what it means Dear me of however the fuck many years ago: I'm trying to get visible. One little gesture at a time. Courting the possibility of one or more grand gestures, also, any day now. I want to get visible so that this time, when shit starts hittin the fan (not if), i won’t miss it like i did in the 80’s out of ... fear? ignorance? just plain old lack of style (lol)? Nah, actually I was pretty stylish. Check me out at 10 with a black felt Stetson and a homemade black western shirt... scuffed up boots, not all pristine like some fuckin pretty boy... jeans... silver chain with an arrowhead resting on my impudent little chest. SAVAGE! 082522 #treefrog fear of needing to be the expert can keep me from opening up a conversation, can keep me from being vulnerable in my ignorance, can make me gloss over questions or implications... if my fundamental essential question is always “how can we allow and encourage literature to do whatever it’s going to do to us as engaged, cnnected readers” (or something like that) then i don’t have to always be the expert; i just have to model what are some appropriate things to do with the natural occurence of curiosity, how to listen with patience & empathy, etc.... Literature is bigger than I am as a teacher & what it is and does will be here long after I’m gone 082722 to give off the energy that you need to give off in order to get what you need, you can either be happy or be on drugs (either one works (up to a point)) being happy lasts longer, works better, has better side effects, and doesn’t turn into a monkey’s paw, but you know you do you (ps drugs can mean a lot of different things) (pps to a certain extend you can do both, but usually only for a moment or so, then it starts to go downhill unless you let the drug part go) (ppps don’t be unwilling not to be invisible (pppps be visible))