The Flower Girl

Today has been quite eventful. I got up and made breakfast for a couple of my current hosts at the Tannery. We drove to the farmers' market and met "Bill the bulb baron", a man who has a flower farm just outside the city. He agreed to let me peddle flowers and work on his farm when he has space. He was going to put me to work this afternoon, but already had several pairs of eager hands at his service. He reminded me of my old boss (the positive aspects of him anyhow) in a way.. it was a little weird.

We then drove up to meet Glenys, a woman whose elderly father has a place with two spare rooms not too far from downtown. I've been trying to find a sublet here in Santa Cruz for February for a couple weeks now - the rent here is generally obscene and it was looking as though I wouldn't manage to get anything for less than $700/month. I was discouraged until I met Glenys and her dad. The place is mine. I pick the key up on Saturday. $350/month, everything included. In case you don't know rent prices in California, that my friends, is a friggin' sweet deal.

So, I'm here for another month. With my own space. With some work. Outdoor work. I have most assuredly scored.

I worry about life back home. I think about the seclusion that comes with the snow and the cold and how it can drive you mad sometimes. I almost feel bad sometimes talking about the fullness of my heart, the warm air, my ocean visits and the relationship I've formed with the world at large. I wish I could put it all in an envelope and send some home. I wish, I wish.