FORT COLLINS – A kelp forest grows in my living room; for Colorado, this is probably unprecedented. Some readers may remember that several years ago, I had an octopus living in the house, and that too, was stunning. But, this new occurrence is even more turbid than the ethereal octopus. I’m learning to deal with it, the tripping over fronds, the mess of pod-piles, and the almost constant growth.

FORT COLLINS – This column is about a boy who was abused by a priest and survived the invisible smash and tatter of such a thing. It happened almost over 40 years ago, in this country, though it could have been anywhere. He’s a good man, centered and whole and only occasionally bitter – about any manner of things just like the rest of us. Surprisingly, he’s good all around with God. It’s the feet of powerful men he holds to the flame.

FORT COLLINS – I asked my son if I could write about it, but chose my moment carefully – I remained off-hand, low key, and aimed the car for the Taco Bell drive through, his favorite for second lunch – the one most Junior High school boys need after school, after healthy and sustaining first lunch, but before late afternoon kitchen raid, before second later-afternoon kitchen raid, and before dinner.

Cold out, too early, and I wake, dull with the anticipation of routine: this morning, a gerbil on a wheel.

I raise myself vertical and move to the kitchen to make oatmeal, not because I’ve resolved on hot breakfasts, but because my border collie’s thyroid pill has to sit in his gut for half an hour before he can have food.

He tells me what came up in school that day: the legislator from Colorado Springs who is against a bill that would require the state to pay for pregnant women to get an AIDS test. The man thinks it is not the state’s job to “ameliorate the negative consequences of immoral behavior” and though he insists he doesn’t want any baby to be born with AIDS, he thinks perhaps having a child with AIDS would make the mother think harder about her immoral behavior.