I am sorry that I haven’t returned your book yet, but I cannot read your street address.
Can you send me a note with the correct address on it?? Thanks!
nose in books
I’ve been researching the new WIP like a fiend, but will lift my face out of the musty library books briefly for this update.
Happy Belated Father’s Day to all. We had a grand time – hung out with our dads, feted BH, called G (dad to daughter’s #1 & #3), and ate massive amounts of barbequed chicken and strawberry shortcake. I baked the shortcake, much to the puzzlement of my family which so rarely sees me in the kitchen. #1 Son and Jess, daughter #2, made BH feel very proud and paternal. If you want to make your dad laugh, send him here.
A couple of teachers have written to tell me that SPEAK made it into their school’s yearbook as one of the students’ favorite books. This feels very nice. Even better is the fact that Best Books is now a yearbook category. Maybe there hope after all.
Summer solstice is coming up this week. When I lived in Denmark, it was a night of great parties and amazing bonfires. Might have to recreate a little of that here in the Forest.
If any of you are bored out of your skulls, see if you can track down a copy of the diary and sketches (1762-1780)of Lt-general Archibald Robertson. I think the formal author names are Robertson and Henry Miller Lydenberg. There is a microfilm copy at SUNY Oswego, but I would like to find a hard copy to borrow so I can photocopy and blow up some of the sketches of New York in the time period of the WIP.
One more thing. I tried to watch TV yesterday. Miami Ink, to be precise. I enjoy tattoos and the stories behind them, but I wanted to find the directors/editors of the show and through them to the sharks. They stretch 5 minutes of story-telling into half an hour by repeating things over and over and over again. One guy, about to ship out with the Navy, wanted a koi fish to remind him of his son. OK, let’s leave the fact that they never explained the fish=son connection alone for a sec. They told us that he was getting the “koi fish for his son” seven freaking times before the artist even fired up the machine. ARGH!!!!!!!!!!! My brain was shrinking by the second.
Most television sucks.
I love this day.
Talking about leaving the nest!
Several of my chicks have flown the nest in a big way. I’m not sure how I feel about this.
This is the paradox of parenting. You want to raise your kids to be strong and kind, to have a sense of morality and direction, to make good decisions, etc etc, blah, blah blah. But if you do your job right and accomplish all that stuff, then they want to leave.
Le sigh.
Last week BH and I drove down to PA to help Mer (daughter #3 for those of you with a score card) finish moving into her slightly off-campus apartment. She’s spending the summer down there, living out every college almost-sophomore’s dream about not moving home after freshman year. And we are really proud of her, because she’s doing it in a smart way – has a job, is taking a class, found a great apartment, and clearly doesn’t need her mom so much.
Le sigh.
Then on Monday, BH and I took Stef (#1) to NYC on a very, very slow Amtrak train.
(This post will now pause to bring you the following haiku:)
Hours late again
We tried to submit, accept
Train zen is a crock
(Back to post)
Why were we going to NYC? Because Stef thought it would be a good idea to spend the summer in China. Yep. Right this very second she’s eating breakfast somewhere near Tiananmen Square in Beijing. She is on a very cool program that offers an 8-week language intensive course, run by CET.
And because the Internet is a wonderful thing, you can follow her adventures. She is anshutian.
woozy
Yesterday I found myself climbing Cascadilla Gorge in Ithaca with Stef (aka Daughter #1) and her godmother, Aunt Beth, who is my best friend from college. Beth and I have known each other for 25 years (gasp!). We met when I was a nervous, lost transfer student to Georgetown. She was the fun, energetic girl with the great voice whose dorm was next to mine. A friendship was born; one that has weathered every possible sadness and triumph.
Walk up the gorge = much huffing and puffing. Lunch at top of gorge = $21.83. Lifelong friendship =priceless
The gorge climbing might have been a wee bit too much activity, because I’ve been getting sick and yesterday it hit with a vengeance. The doc put me on antibiotics for an infection. I feel really weird. Kind of woozy and not fully attached to my body. Not sure if it’s the infection or the meds. Whatever it is, I wish it would stop RIGHT NOW.
Help me out. I need links to funny Internet sites.
Hit me, people. I will spend the day feeling woozy, watching World Cup soccer, and surfing your suggestions.
(I can’t figure out if I should be cheering for the Netherlands, because they wear orange so boldly, or Serbia-Montenegro, because I feel bad that the proud name of their nation is abbreviated to SMT on the television.)
(Isn’t woozy a great word? woozywoozywoozy)