It's been a busy week. It's amazing how much I can do when a book is done.
Well, we can hope. I should have been suspicious when one friend said she came down with food poisoning on the ferry on her way home from a winter Outside, but her husband didn't, and no one else on board seemed to either. Or Sunday night when Dave (of the terrific Dave and Mandy folk duo) needed a stool to sit on, and did not attend the pre-concert potluck because of food poisoning-- or even on Sunday when I felt a little queasy in church, and a long walk did not perk me up enough to rally for Norm's annual Aloha birthday party, which always signals the arrival of spring.
My favorite typo of the month, okay maybe ever, is on Jim Greene's Alaska Weather Calendar, which is also my favorite calendar ever, as it has all kinds of weather information not available anywhere else. In April in addition to all the monthly climate data from precip to daylight, checking it on the kitchen wall everyday I learn something new-- or it reminds me of something old-- or something I should do-- there's a photo of Mt.
"We talk about how the world is changing, but what we're really talking about is how we are changing the world. It doesn't have to be. I've yet to see a man improve a tree." -- Kim Heacox in The Only Kayak
Ivy's face says it all. Oh no! Snow! It figures, since her sister Caroline found the Christmas decorations in a closet last night and set up the little tree, and had me read (and sing) The Twelve Days of Christmas while she hung the corresponding ornaments on it-- from the partridge to the Lords a-leaping. Caroline slept over and the rest of the family joined us for pancakes this morning.
I have been living on coffee, brown rice and dates, madly typing with two (sore) fingers this week, and have hardly budged from my keyboard. I have not gotten out much at all in the last two months either, except to get a little fresh air or exercise (or do what I absolutely must) in order to meet a book deadline of April 1. No fooling. Although it took my editor and I until a few minutes ago to call it a wrap. For now, anyway. I'm not popping champagne, yet. For me, each publication, from a column to a book is a miracle.
My daughter Sarah had to take a picture of the low tide view out the back door last night,
but I liked the inside scenery even more.