Yesterday was the second anniversary of that sad event Maryanne has named, “Patrick’s Very Bad Day”. Last year I was in Paris for this day, wandering around in a tres melodramatic haze, thinking to myself “Mais, il est mort. Mon frere. Il est mort.” Paris is, in general a good place to go when you are feeling sad, melancholy or blue, because the city lends itself to soulful lingering at cafes, gazing into the middle distance while every once in a while using that little tiny spoon to stir the sugar you have, so sacreligiously, put into your cafe. Luckily,…
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Although it looks like the job issues are starting to settle down for the short term, I’m still not sure that this isn’t the beginning of the end for me at the Big Corporation where I’ve been working for the past few years. I never thought I’d ever have a corporate job in the first place — I mean, I was a writer and an academic and in general, ever since I gave up on New York City in my twenties, had been someone who’d chosen quality-of-life over making a living. But when I finished my PhD and was so…
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This morning my friend Nina called and asked, with that sort of tense tone in her voice, what I was doing. Why? I said. Do you need a rescue? Turns out, she was in the car with the twins, who had a pediatrician’s appointment, and her husband (who is writing for TV trying to support them all) had a sudden deadline at eleven. She needed an extra set of arms. Well count me in. There’s no cure for a case of low-level January depression like a two month old baby that needs a snuggle. I did have to check my…
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Blogging has been slow here at LivingSmall because I just haven’t felt like I had anything interesting to say. It’s been a weird month — I’ve been a tiny bit depressed — I have to say, I sort of thought this grief thing would get easier at some point — like after I made it through the first anniversary, or got through the holidays — but it still just sucks. And trying to write this book isn’t helping — I mean, last January was SO horrible what with the crying on the couch with the dog in my lap, and…
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Because Heather pointed it out in the comments, and because it needs to be shouted from the rooftops, let’s point out that the Oxford American Magazine is back! May I suggest that this fine publication would be a terrific Christmas gift for anyone on your list who is interested in good writing, southern life and literature, and FABULOUS music. The whole subscription is worth it for the annual music issue, which comes with a CD that will make you dance with happiness around your living room. The other good cause I’m supporting this year, is Heifer Project International. I’m buying…
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My friend Nina’s twin girls arrived today — two little girls with full heads of black hair, who came out squalling and who each bit the doctor! Nina is my dear friend, the one I called when that assistant coroner was sitting in his truck in front of my house a year ago, waiting to see if I had someone who would come. Nina came, and she cooked pot roast for days and took care of me and everyone else who gathered in my kitchen that week. Nina’s last pregnancy ended in stillbirth, so this one has been fraught. We’ve…
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Well, last night all the air went out of my good intentions, out of my determination not to let them get to me, out of my belief that we will, in the long run prevail in our intentions to build a progressive society. Last night I was tired and jittery over our political situation, over my new job at Cisco that I don’t know how to do, over my fears that this administration will wreck terrible havoc in the name of “faith”. But I was having dinner with a friend, and it was good, and we ran into some people…
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As the Dalai Lama says. And he’s someone who knows opposition when he sees it. Did the Dalai Lama squeal about how mean the Chinese were? How they overran his country and killed his people and destroyed his cultural heritage? Nope. He spoke truth to power, while continually pointing out that “the Chinese people are good people.” Frankly, these days I’m looking to those folks who have seen real tangible serious oppression. The Dalai Lama. Nelson Mandela. Vaclav Havel. So what did I do today to make positive effort for the good? I wrote letters. Yup, boring old on-the-ground letter…
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I transplanted the tomatoes into the garden this afternoon … they’re cozy in their wall o’water cones as are the zucchini, some of the cucumbers, and the eggplants. The peppers are on their own, and I hope they’ll be okay — the temperatures have been in the mid-fifties during the day with intermittent rain, and down into the forties at night. The sides of the cucumber peat pots were growing little tiny oyster mushrooms on them. Interesting. But we’ve had lots of lovely soft rain, perfect rain for transplants, and it’s supposed to keep up for about the next ten…
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A couple of months ago, I ordered two Tess of the D’Urbervilles bare root rosebushes from White Flower Farm. They kindly sent me a note that they couldn’t guarantee them as my zone is too cold, but between global warming, and planting them on the south side of my house, in the tropical perennial bed, well, I think they’ll be fine. They look lovely in the photos, bushy dark-pink roses which should bloom continually and will make a nice contrast to the ancient and wonderful white rugosa roses that were here when I moved in. I’ve also planted a couple…