The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
Wow, what a storm blew through this morning. The sky turned dark and then green, the ash trees shook and bent and the leaves tore right off. I said it looked like a thunderstorm, but Chip said it was too cold. Turns out that while I don't think we had any lightening right here, they did get some thunder, and hail too, 20 miles upriver in Klukwan. There's snow on the road to Whitehorse and no doubt on the peaks under all those heavy clouds. ( I hope the museum folks are all safe on the drive to the state museum convention in Seward. That will be a two day, nearly 1000 mile adventure, for sure. Nancy Nash is going so there's no choir Thursday night, and she won't even miss her swims, since the pool is closed Oct.1-3 for repairs.) Anyway, this is all a good excuse to make some tea and pretend I'm writing a column on moose hunting while kind of hoping that I don't have to go back out and look for another moose this afternoon. (There are 15 taken so far.) The forecast calls for "sunny" tomorrow, and I don't think it is a joke, so that means I really should get to work. (The column for We Alaskans magazine is due Thursday, I think, although deadlines tend to be a little fluid, as I know the Alaska Dispatch News editor is really organized and is usually a bit ahead.) But I'm in the paralyzed-by-the- glowing-PR phase of book publication, as I received the Algonquin catalog with my new book in it yesterday, taking up a whole page in the front there among all these really terrific titles and covers and authors, and while that should make me happy, it's terrifying. What if it doesn't live up to the expectations? What if you don't like it? And what if it does, and you do? Will I have to buy new clothes and go somewhere? (Yesterday Chip's cousin called and asked when the "launch party" was. I didn't know what to say, as I don't have any idea, and who does that anyway?) I was in a nursing home when "If You Lived Here..." came out, after literally being "launched" to Seattle after I was hit by a truck and almost killed. For the "Garden and Dogs" publication I wanted to wear a helmet and a life jacket (I heard some of the fishermen put there's on when the squall came through this morning, too) and sit on on my sofa and pretend nothing was happening at all, though I had a few friends over for dinner and re-gifted them my complimentary copies from the publisher a month or so before it came out. On the actual publication date, I gave a reading at the library, and made everyone who hoped I'd make them laugh, cry, which was not so good. The new book is called "Find the Good", so hopefully it will make people feel better for reading it, and it comes out April 28, which is my friend's birthday, something I am taking as a very good sign. Maybe we can just have a lot of cake and wine and call it good? Besides, I have a couple of much bigger "launches" on the horizon that I'm really looking forward to. The first is grandbaby number five, the first boy, due in less than two weeks in Juneau, so I'm on standby for that-- and then it is wedding number four, as daughter JJ is getting married July 25. That will all be way fun. I know how to do weddings now, and I'm rock solid when it comes to babies and new mothers. Funny how that storm in my head over the new book catalog seems to have blown through just as fast as the real weather event earlier today (and yes, there is a lot of new snow on the mountains) just by sharing it. Thanks for listening. Now, can we sing "The sun will come out tomorrow?" Together?