On Wednesday we met friends at the park for four and a half sunny hours. Yesterday it snowed. Such is the season in the high desert. All the short sleeve shirts and sun dresses have to stay in the bottom drawers for a little while longer as we get one or two more wears out of sweaters and tights. But, the mulberry is budding and the new raised beds are full of fresh soil, ready for planting. We are going to try to grow onions, which only D will eat, for the first time this year. I am already envisioning the look of the yard from my glider, beds full of basil and oregano, tomatoes and peppers, petunias and carrots. I love the possibility. I love that I am winding up one term and brainstorming for the next, that my whiteboard is full of deadlines for reviews and article ideas, that there is a big fundraiser coming up at L’s school and I am totally confident that our work will be profitable and the event will be fun. I love that the past few weeks have been full of parties and dinners with friends, playdates and out of town guests, heading to the neighbors in my pajamas at 9:30 at night to watch a silly movie….Spring really is my favorite. Soon the days will be hot, with that sluggish heavy air. The sky will lighten from deep turquoise to almost white and the ground will grow dusty and thirsty. Soon it will hurt your skin just to climb into the car and the sun will be up until nine at night. Soon soon soon. But now! A stack of books, work to do, things to create, stories to write, kids to snuggle with, papers to grade, coffee to drink on these still brisk mornings.
All week we were social, meeting friends, running and playing. Today, I have this quiet hour to myself, half-gone now, spent imagining.
***Next CB online book club selection is Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. Discussion begins HERE April 24th.***
Claiming busy is the worst excuse, I know, so I won’t bother to say it.
Here is what I have been up to (and don’t forget: I am going to keep bullying you to comment on the discussion of the Lydia Millet book).
Article on chickens and children (page 6)
Review of The Tricking of Freya
Review of The Glister
Review of Amberville
I just finished Eat, Pray, Love which is one of those books that everyone reads and everyone hates but everyone still reads it. I didn’t hate it but I didn’t love it. I thought the first third, where Gilbert travels to Italy and sortof gets her bearings after her brutal divorce was good. I found her story funny and relatable. But, her soujourn in India, meh. I was not entertained nor enlightened by her mystical yogic experiences, her dreams of her guru, etc etc etc. When she left India for Bali I perked up again but the end was so predictable and dull and who cares about her Brazilian lover? Not I. I hate to say it but she was more likable, as a narrator, when she was depressed, lonely and neurotic than when she was God-loving and sexually active.
A friend has suggested I check out something by Janet Frame: any suggestions?
Now, I must take my current book (more on it soon, surely) and sit in the sun: it may be that spring is here.
First Story
“Walking into the apartment, with a bag of groceries in one hand and Ollie on her hip, she tried to see what those girls down the street saw when they came over to visit. The apartment was dark, the curtains drawn, the place was a mess and it smelled, just a bit, like old oatmeal.”
Second Story
“Rivka walked past that damn shop everyday and everyday she was tempted by an evil inclination to walk inside and abuse her body. Yesterday she slowed her pace, dared to give the not quite dark windows a sideways glance. She couldn’t see much, outlines of bodies from the depths of the space. Ayalet was waiting and so she hurried up again.”
Third Story
“Today my mother asked me when I was going to write a book. I told her I don’t have one in me but that is not true. I have lots of stories in me but they die away before I can cultivate them. I am the dead story cemetery.”
And the Fourth Story
“You are not a gambler by nature but you have often lain awake at night thinking about what you would do if you won the lottery. Just a million, nothing much after taxes, would at least get you out of this dumpy apartment, help you into a nicer car, get your ass on a plane to see some bit of the world. You tell yourself you would put something in the bank to earn some interest because that would be the smart thing to do.”
