And now I can, you know, start living in the house I bought. Here’s part of a poem about it:
Hold on, dear house,
‘gainst the long hours
of emptiness, against
the wind’s tearing force.
You are my mind
made particular,
my heart in its place.
(from Robert Creeley’s “This House”)
Has Toby been just loving it? Has he zipped up and down the stairs? Has he been exploring his little ‘tocks off?
I’ll bet he has…