I have a complicated and confusing confession to make. And to top it off, it’s couched in a question of sorts.

I distrust laziness, yet I am bad at work. I’m a putterer. I don’t find it easy to sit still for a long time, much less meditate. I never became a pot-smoker because I can’t stand the couch-lying, cartoon-watching immobility it creates. I am a coffee fanatic--I’m all about the productivity-enhancing aspects of it. 

Last night, I lovingly held a rooster, thanked him for his short stay, and efficiently made the cut that ended his life. I’ve never done that. I’ve never killed an animal.  

We were moving from Texas to northern California, under economic duress. There is something about driving long distances (as opposed to flying) that makes it easier handle the change from one environment to a vastly different one. In the course of your journey you can see the land swell and flatten, observe the terrain and climate change from curving mountainous roads to vast swathes of desert, and note the commensurate architectural adaptations.

Sometimes I think my family relies on other families being innoculated against poverty so that the five of us don't die of the disease. We sometimes find ourselves in tough situations and in need of rescue. We are self-reliant and mostly tough: my kids carry heavy things if I need them to, and walk really far. We sit on curbs and wait for buses, or crouch on asphalt and get our hands greasy in the process of fixing our flat bike tires. But sometimes, we get stuck somewhere until someone can help us.