by Jnana Hodson

I’m not sure any lover could have accompanied me all the way in the repeated moves from the orchards of Washington state to the seacoast of New Hampshire. The Rust Belt relocation came in part because my now ex-wife’s only aunt and uncle lived there, and we needed to be near family; as it turned out, what I really got from that stopover was an experience of Old-Order Quakerism and the swirl with another, in the aftermath, who I later followed to Baltimore.

Curiously, without her, I could have relocated anywhere in the Northeast while working as a field representative, but I wouldn’t have developed any of the Mennonite sides that continue. Events often are a mixed bag, aren’t they?

All of that got stirred up returning to the recorded files years later, well into my remarriage. You know, that part about applying to schools.

Just about the time you think the academic institutions know every intimate detail of your life and history, they want yet another detail. At least our younger one was accepted at her only early choice, which also came through with a huge scholarship.

Such a relief, after the tony prep school she’d applied to a few years earlier.

As said, all the details. I was beginning to think they knew more about me than I did. Ever feel humiliated? Or simply groveling?