We’ve unfurled into Debi Bodett's like a bunch of marbles ecstatically sprawled out.  She welcomed us with freshly baked bread and apple pie and her delicious chicken soup. Jake joyously ate soup for dinner and breakfast, and breakfast again today. Within a couple hours he read Debi his poetry. She responded with trays of buttered bread and hot chocolate as he read or watched TV. Within 24 hrs he was calling her Mom 2.

Again this morning he was up before any of us working on his blog: SimpleSite.com/SportsNow. While it has little to do with our road trip, it is clearly a great empowerment to him. He calls us over hourly to read his articles, which are generally one decisive sentence about how professional soccer, baseball and football are going. Then he erases it and starts afresh. She has also made him a business card.

I’m afraid his blog was inspired by the total computer geekfest of the adults. Debi is master of the universe at her big mac, effortlessly assisting us in orchestrating two new websites:  Asiafreeman.com  and Walshinthecloud.com.

We are almost “live”. If we can just get over ourselves, our zombie state. Debi’s home is carpeted and quiet. There are so many soft places to curl up and snooze. It was sunny here practically until we came, dry as a bone. We seem to have brought the rain. It is really coming down.

Longtime friend, mentor and arts advocate, Gaye Wolfe died last night. She was ready but I was not. When I held her in Homer, she was already too weak to speak. By the time she was flown to Anchorage, her infection was practically irreversible. She became too weak to recover from surgery. I want to crawl under one of Debi’s exotic rugs and stay there till the sun comes out.