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Hanging in there
Aug. 12th, 2003 02:51 pmI am not having a very good time. As a number of people, most notably Anne Frank, have observed, being reminded or reminding oneself that other people are having a worse time is not really notably comforting. Even the old saw "Could be worse, could be raining" is untrue, since it would be far better if it were in fact raining.
One thing I will say for the present sent of circumstances is that I have realized how much I need a vacation. And I'm going to get one. It's attached to Eric's departure for at least a year, possibly longer, but it will still be a vacation. I'm looking forward to that a lot.
Having read as much of Mary Renault's historical fiction as I can at the moment, I have devolved upon the Anne of Green Gables books. I never saw any of those as a child or young adult; then for some years we had Anne of Avonlea and, I think, Anne's House of Dreams about the place. A few years ago my sister-in-law gave me an Amazon gift certificate as a birthday present, so I got the entire series. They became instant comfort reading, despite my great dubiety about a number of their underlying assumptions.
At the moment I'm reading one of the ones I'm more used to, and so am trying to assimilate comfort and instruction at the same time, wondering what makes these books so appealing and whether I can do it. Probably not, to the second; it's really no use my contemplating these things, I have contemplated them regularly for years and years and it simply does not work for me to take a list of attributes alleged to be successful either for other people or for me, and put them into a book. I am not trying to be all high-falutin here or preserving my lonely artistic integrity or anything of that sort. I acknowledge it as a flaw that I can't do this, but really I can't.
I am trying it again anyway because the prospects of the current project's ever being bought by anybody look exceedingly grim. I don't really want to talk about it more just now.
In other news, there are three or four plants of the volunteer pink phlox, which pleases me tremendously; and I have about a dozen green tomatoes growing assiduously now that the weather pleases them. My Madonna lilies never came back and only one of the three Casablanca lilies did so. This is not a year when I can afford to buy any lilies, but I think, as Minnehaha K. suggested to me, I will move some of the ones in front that are being crowded out by the goldenrod, and put them around back where they can expand.
David and I went down to Northfield last week because a cousin of his was visiting. He hadn't seen her in about 23 years and I had never met her at all. I was very grumpy about meeting strangers (her husband was there too), but it was foolish of me to be so, after all. They were delightful people and we had a lovely time. I did have cause to ponder my utter lack of social skills. Both the cousin and her husband asked us a great many questions, as is indeed reasonable for relatives who have not seen one another in years or met one at all, as the case may be, and we were happy to answer them. But it occurred to me later that we hadn't returned the favor. I don't mind being asked a barrage of questions about my writing methods -- they were quite clueful and didn't make any stupid assumptions. But I am much too shy to ask a similar barrage, even though I think that would probably have been the proper thing to do. I felt I hadn't done my share of the work. David is not shy, but he isn't in the habit of asking a lot of questions, and he didn't acquire it for the occasion.
There was a visiting cat named Lexy who reminded me enormously of Lydy's Lilith.
My mother had David and Lydy and Eric and me over for dinner, in order to see Eric before he left. He was very sleepy, having been awakened by the appalling fire alarm in his apartment building and then having had to get up early for work-related reasons, but he had a good time, and so did the rest of us. It was nice to see my brother again too; I'm not sure how much longer he will be here. He regaled us with the details of the Teapot Dome scandal, among other things.
I'm having a terrible time with the very moderate heat we are having. This summer is nothing compared to last; it's been cool to average. But I have to turn on the air conditioner in my office when the temperature gets above 80, which vexes me when I think of the electric bill.
My cat is crammed onto half of the cushion I put on my desk for him, the other half being inconsiderately occupied by a couple of dirty plates I haven't removed from the room yet. If I move them he will probably leave. There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
Pamela
One thing I will say for the present sent of circumstances is that I have realized how much I need a vacation. And I'm going to get one. It's attached to Eric's departure for at least a year, possibly longer, but it will still be a vacation. I'm looking forward to that a lot.
Having read as much of Mary Renault's historical fiction as I can at the moment, I have devolved upon the Anne of Green Gables books. I never saw any of those as a child or young adult; then for some years we had Anne of Avonlea and, I think, Anne's House of Dreams about the place. A few years ago my sister-in-law gave me an Amazon gift certificate as a birthday present, so I got the entire series. They became instant comfort reading, despite my great dubiety about a number of their underlying assumptions.
At the moment I'm reading one of the ones I'm more used to, and so am trying to assimilate comfort and instruction at the same time, wondering what makes these books so appealing and whether I can do it. Probably not, to the second; it's really no use my contemplating these things, I have contemplated them regularly for years and years and it simply does not work for me to take a list of attributes alleged to be successful either for other people or for me, and put them into a book. I am not trying to be all high-falutin here or preserving my lonely artistic integrity or anything of that sort. I acknowledge it as a flaw that I can't do this, but really I can't.
I am trying it again anyway because the prospects of the current project's ever being bought by anybody look exceedingly grim. I don't really want to talk about it more just now.
In other news, there are three or four plants of the volunteer pink phlox, which pleases me tremendously; and I have about a dozen green tomatoes growing assiduously now that the weather pleases them. My Madonna lilies never came back and only one of the three Casablanca lilies did so. This is not a year when I can afford to buy any lilies, but I think, as Minnehaha K. suggested to me, I will move some of the ones in front that are being crowded out by the goldenrod, and put them around back where they can expand.
David and I went down to Northfield last week because a cousin of his was visiting. He hadn't seen her in about 23 years and I had never met her at all. I was very grumpy about meeting strangers (her husband was there too), but it was foolish of me to be so, after all. They were delightful people and we had a lovely time. I did have cause to ponder my utter lack of social skills. Both the cousin and her husband asked us a great many questions, as is indeed reasonable for relatives who have not seen one another in years or met one at all, as the case may be, and we were happy to answer them. But it occurred to me later that we hadn't returned the favor. I don't mind being asked a barrage of questions about my writing methods -- they were quite clueful and didn't make any stupid assumptions. But I am much too shy to ask a similar barrage, even though I think that would probably have been the proper thing to do. I felt I hadn't done my share of the work. David is not shy, but he isn't in the habit of asking a lot of questions, and he didn't acquire it for the occasion.
There was a visiting cat named Lexy who reminded me enormously of Lydy's Lilith.
My mother had David and Lydy and Eric and me over for dinner, in order to see Eric before he left. He was very sleepy, having been awakened by the appalling fire alarm in his apartment building and then having had to get up early for work-related reasons, but he had a good time, and so did the rest of us. It was nice to see my brother again too; I'm not sure how much longer he will be here. He regaled us with the details of the Teapot Dome scandal, among other things.
I'm having a terrible time with the very moderate heat we are having. This summer is nothing compared to last; it's been cool to average. But I have to turn on the air conditioner in my office when the temperature gets above 80, which vexes me when I think of the electric bill.
My cat is crammed onto half of the cushion I put on my desk for him, the other half being inconsiderately occupied by a couple of dirty plates I haven't removed from the room yet. If I move them he will probably leave. There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
Pamela
