Big thunder & lightning, a wee bit of rain

That's what we had last night. The ground was so dry, it was just a sip or two.

Today, after going to the P.O., etc., all that stuff one does on Saturday, I rested a while, then walked half a mile without stopping. That's the distance, best I can estimate, by knowing it takes me approx. 30 minutes to walk a mile without stopping. So I walked for 20 minutes. I'll gradually work up to a mile a day, but I need a whatchacallit, a pedometer? Couple of years ago, I could have got one free for a bunch of Special K proofs of purchase.

Mailed 3 books today, and cleared almost $10.00. I've listed for sale all the expensive books I intend to let go of, and what's left are good books, but mostly paperbacks and "penny books." That's why I need to go into business seriously, or quit altogether. If I make it a business, I'll have to spend a couple or three days a week scouting for books. Decisions, decisions.

Yesterday I went up to Ramey's to see if I could get her manual typewriter to moving again, but we ran into an organic problem out of all control. It comes under what the space program would call biologic contamination of mechanical devices. Pat gave me a good book to list, even though I couldn't help with the typewriter. And Gretchen was glad to see me, which always makes me feel good.

I saw Peggy Uptain at the library yesterday. She's on the Bass House committee, and had asked me some time ago about the china I had offered to donate. I told her I would use some of it at the July book club meeting, and she could take some of it to show the committee if she wanted to.

Today I just went to the P.O. to mail a book, and to CVS for printer paper and scotch tape. I have to make a decision soon about whether to wind up this book selling, or go through all the rigamarole pursuant to going into business.

Poetry Reading Tomorrow Night

at the Arts Council. And this time I'm going! Mama means it!

And for "anyone" looking in on this post, the reason I'm up so late is that I just finished writing a poem to read tomorrow night. "It aint no good, but it's all I got."

July Book Club Meeting

The Bookmarkers will meet here on July 13th, so I've got to get myself busy shining up the place. Our reading selection is Ahab's Wife by Alabamian Sena Jeter Naslund, probably the best novel I've read in recent years.

At the far edge of my back yard, there's a sort of staggered double row of big oak and pine trees, with ten to twenty feet of open space between the two rows, the full length of the two lots (see above). I call it the alee, or the avenue. Since the Atchisons cleaned out and leveled the adjoining Ditch, it's the most pleasant place to walk, or to loaf and invite the soul. I wish we could have the meeting out there, but of course in July that's impossible. But one day recently, I was standing at the east end of the avenue, looking down it to the west end, and had a vision of a row of flowering shrubbery, like Alabama (white) azaleas, between the trees on the side closer to the house, with an arched trellis for the already established rose bushes to climb on. Steve could still get in there to mow and weed, from either end of the rows. The picture at right was made before all the landscaping and before the trees added another five years of growth.

Drifting and dreaming, but it's do-able. I could spend the next ten years doing it myself, or get the Atchisons or that Schmith from Pelham to do it in a few days, once they ever got started. Of course, it would cost another fortune, and I'd probably have to get a job to pay for it.

Another Gorgeous Day

Here's Mo on the deck, enjoying the lovely sunshine. His mom (me) can only enjoy the lovely sunshine for a few minutes at a time. It really is a beautiful day, after raining yesterday.

I emailed Jed and told him about calling Hinkle for an estimate on the gutters and siding, and he replied. Pat stopped by for a few minutes on her way home. I sold The Stranger by A. Camus. And, I'm trying to finish H. Lee's biography of Virginia Woolf that I started reading some time ago; I think it's longer than Gone With the Wind. And that's nearly all for this beautiful day.

Got the J. Mason letter back--someone else lives there now.

"Dear Teacher: It was raining."

That was Daddy's version of an absence excuse to my teacher, when we lived on the Mountain. I had the hardest time getting Mama to do things like write excuses when I was absent from school. Daddy said, "All you have to do, Merry, is write, 'Dear teacher: It was raining.'"

That wasn't just a random thought. It was my excuse for sleeping most of today. I got up early and got a few things done, and then it started raining, and I just couldn't resist a nap. So about 1:00 I lay down on the sofa and slept till after six. Then I received an order for an old Stephen King book (The Bachman Books) that will cost at least as much to mail as the money I made. At least the book will have a new home with somebody who wants it.

When my dad and I meet again,
A word or two will do
For all that can be spoken,
Just, “Pa!” and, “Hello, Jo!”

But our hands that were so alike,
The big hand and the little hand,
Will catch in a hold unbroken
For a thousand years or so,

And all the words we ever
Needed to say to each other
Will go on being spoken
By our hearts, which have never let go. - (Written in May 1994)

Bel Canto, by Ann Patchett

Here's part of an email I sent to Mable Hecht, apologizing for missing the meeting. This is my impression of the book.

I thought it was a fabulous story. I think the choice of names added a lot of cinematic familiarity to it--Hosokawa sounds vaguely like Hayakawa (I think Hayakawa played the Japanese general in Bridge Over the River Kwai). Gen Watanabe, the translator, immediately made me think of Ken Watanabe, the Last Samurai. I loved all the main characters, especially General Benjamin after I got over his hitting the Vice President with the rifle butt. The inevitable climax, when nearly everyone got shot, was bitter but in a way seemed fitting. The only part I didn't like was the "denouement." Gen and Roxane married? Bah, it would never happen. I did love Thibault and his wife, but all four of them were just a little too happy. The end was too different from the rest of the book. I know it must have been hard for the author to write anything at all after the shooting scene.

What I'm reading now is The Shaman's Secret, by Douglas Gillette, not as great as I thought it would be, but fascinating enough. I guess it explains why Cortes found the walls of a room in Montezuma's palace plastered with human blood. Of course, Mz was Aztec, but probably the same principle applied.

SELLING Books? Who'd a thought it?

Yesterday I had two sales: Calling the Circle: The First and Future Culture, and Baudelaire: Poems. The first one I found in the basement, read part of it, cleaned it up to near-new appearance. I bought the Baudelaire a few years ago, read it and remember more of it than I really care to.

Today I sold Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human, by Harold Bloom, a great big fat hardcover book. I have two copies of this, and I can't remember where the second one came from. Bloom is so pigheaded he won't admit there's any doubt about the authorship, but he writes so engagingly that it doesn't seem to matter. Reminds me more of Lily B. Campbell than Bradley. But like Bradley in clinging to illogical statements like ivy to a tree.

I didn't go to the book club meeting yesterday. The library didn't get the book (Bel Canto) for me until Thursday afternoon, although I requested it at least two weeks ago, nearer three. Anyway, I couldn't quit reading it, meeting or not. I didn't take time to call Mable or anybody, and now I feel like I've committed a crime. Misdemeanor, at least.

I've also received a couple more feedbacks from customers in the past few days. Still at 100%. Holding my breath, hoping it will last.

A Talented Sister

Hurrah for Ramey! Pat's story "Big Team, the Little Turtle," has won an Alabama Writer's Conclave award. They let her know early so she could send in some information; the meeting is in July, I think, when she'll know which prize place she won, and how much MONEY goes along with it!

I found Jane Mason's home address by Googling around, and wrote her a letter, mailed it today. I hope she answers.

Tha's all for today, folks!

Rainy afternoon

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Didn't it rain, children! Most of the afternoon yesterday, and we had a little thunderstorm that knocked my computer haywire-ward. I didn't get back on the internet until this morning. I stood in the deck-door and listened to the rain.

Thursday's Child Has Far To Go...

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I listed mostly paperback books all day and received 3 orders for cheapos. Now I'm tired and want to go to bed. It's not easy, slaving over a hot computer all day. Almost like work.

Jed phoned this afternoon. He's going to Phoenix again Saturday for a week.

Too Big a Bite

I backed out on the dog deal. Kept asking myself, Are you prepared to run back and forth to the vet and spend beaucoup d'argent each visit? Do you really want another entity dependent on you for its social, economic and political welfare? What about grooming? Do you remember DeJuana's little white dog Shadow?

I wonder what happened to DeJuana. Last I heard from her, she was in Worcester, Mass., living with a relative, talking about moving somewhere else. Then she stopped answering my letters. She should have stayed at UAB.

Looks as if my run of book sales in the past two weeks has shot its wad. No orders yesterday or today. Maybe they'll cycle me on again soon. Maybe they won't.

In Love Again?

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Another animal, when I swore "No more!" Browsing the FOCD site, I came upon this white schnoodle, and fell in love again. I sent an email this morning asking about adopting him, and his nice mom, Nancy McGowan, called me a few minutes ago. They live in Hoover! I was afraid it would be Cullman, or Chattanooga, or Calera, one of those C places that are farther away than I like to drive these days. She's going to bring the pup to meet me Thursday. We're meeting at the 280 Cracker Barrel at 2 pm, and what I'm going to bring is his adoption fee, a contribution to the FOCD, just in case we decide to close the deal toute de suite. (I feel I can afford this, as I sold the 9-volume set of the works of Abraham Lincoln last Monday.) Nancy calls him Max, but he's still something of a pup, less than a year old, so that may be negotiable later on, to suit me and him.

I didn't go back to the yard sale today, but Pat went. I told her about the little carved jade rocking-horse (or rocking-dog), and asked her to buy it for me, and she did. I really need to repair, repaint and redecorate the doll's house. The horse/dog, along with the crystal cradle, will make the nursery special.

P.O., Estate Sale

Southern Classic Estates has a big sale going across the street from LHS, some fabulous stuff from a lady's houseful of collections. I just bought some books, a glass bird paperweight and five objects I don't know how to describe except they're round.
Here are a couple of pets that I didn't adopt. Buck was with Friends of Cats and Dogs, and Bob III is at Metro Cat Clinic. I can love them without owning them. (Buck was adopted recently. I had him for about 24 hours several months ago.)

This cat is the spit image of Bob when he was not fully grown. Bob even had the spot of color on his nose. I think when I believed he had wandered off and died, he just went on a spree and begat progeny all over the south side of Birmingham. I know Mus was his, because Mus looked exactly like a mix of Bob and that little girl calico who used to come courting him.

It rained a few drops late yesterday afternoon; almost got the whole deck wet.

Flowers and songs

Oh, the summertime's acomin',

And the trees are all abloomin',

And the wild mountain thyme

Grows around the bloomin' heather!

In reality, the flowers are not all abloomin', because the bloomin' rain won't fall, and the flowers that were abloomin' (roses) lie withered and blown. The hydrangeas did look pretty, blooming under the tall shrubs at the west side of the house. Yesterday they were looking a bit droopy and thirsty. I thought about hanging them up to dry. Then I thought about putting them in the purple vase. Although Emerson said love the flower but leave it where it grows, I cut the hydrangeas and put them into deep water in the purple vase. Lovely.