I don't think I'd ever ridden route 12 until yesterday. I know I must have driven it once, because I have a vague memory of the turnaround at Interlaken Park, at the end of 19th Ave.

I had a doctor's appointment, and I'd originally planned on walking home from work, and then driving up to 19th. It was a miscommunication that made Phillip plan on driving to work that day, and leaving me without the car. Yesterday morning, after learning I'd be carless, I quickly reviewed my options. It wouldn't have been an impossible walk from 9th and Jefferson to 19th and Mercer. I thought briefly about Flexcar, but that's become prohibitively expensive - but not impossible. I thought about walking from work over to John Street and catching either the 43 or the 8. I thought about walking from work to Pine Street, then catching the 10 up to 15th Avenue, then walking up to 19th. Then I remembered the 12. It was the perfect option.

It was just a short walk from Jefferson to Madison, and from there the 12 took me right to the front door of the doctor's office. After the appointment, I could have walked home, but instead I chose to walk over to John Street, where I caught the 43 home.

It was a much smarter way to make the trip than driving would have been - and a whole lot smarter than taking a Flexcar. It all worked out for the best.

"My father's name being Gladden T Hart, my mother's name Gladys Night, and my Christian name Gladys Night's Little Pip, Squeak, my infant tongue could make of these names nothing longer or more explicit than Squeak. So, I called myself Squeak, and came to be called Squeak."

- Squeak, Gladys Night's Little Pip

Phillip came up with an interesting question last night: Where did Squeak get that sound of hers? (Meaning that mysterious bark'hiss sound I wrote about on August 31.) Neither Gladden nor Gladys made that sound, so where how did Squeak come up with it?

Gladys made a hissing sound, but it was very different than Squeak's. Gladys' was a single sound - Squeak's was usually sounded two or three times - and without the hard syllable at the beginning. Did Squeak modify it?

Did Squeak invent the sound on her own?

Did Gladys make the sound, but we just didn't notice it?

So far, Gladden has never made the hissing sound.

Phillip skipped church today, because that's what he felt he needed to do. I went to church, because that's what I felt I needed to do. Our pastor said a prayer for Phillip and me.

I went to Writers' Group after church, because I wanted to. Rolling Wabi-Sabi, in its unfinished state, got a good reaction. Barbara commented that the story flows much faster now. Bernice told me that she could really feel the emotions I wrote about.

Nancy announced that several of her poems are getting published. She's looking into putting a book of poetry together. Blanche announced that her piece on St. Francis won an Honorable Mention from Writers Digest magazine, out of 14,000 entries. I'm very happy for them both.

After Writers' Group, I stopped into Africa Mama (formerly Uzuri, now a block and a half north of its former location). When I told the woman in the shop that I was looking for a box to bury our pet, who died last night, she gave me a 35% discount on the box I picked out.

I'm feeling empty and hopeless right now. Nothing seems to matter much - not my writing, not my drum, not my job, not my church, not meditation or yoga. I've been through too much this year, and it just seems to keep coming. I'm thinking about resuming therapy.