Ever since the days of Rip Van Winkle and "The Twilight Zone," men have been returning to a place to find it mysteriously and irrevocably changed. Yesterday I came back home after what was to me a Van Winkle-esque interval to find it blessedly the same.
I'd been in New York and New Jersey for a month and a half, watching some gifted people make a movie. It was exhilarating but exhausting, and by the end of shooting, the time was stretching like taffy. The last day/night of filming ended shortly before 6 a.m. last Saturday.
While I was away, our dog Booker spent much of his time sitting in a corner of our back yard behind a small cinder block wall. He and I once found a lizard under the top cinder block, and ever since then he's wanted to check under there about once an hour. But I'm the only one who ever accommodates him. Patti Jo feels that lifting the block a dozen times a day is over-indulgent.