Trains!

I am really collecting Amtrak miles this week! Did my usual trip to NYC on Monday and then home Tuesday. Digression: Before I left on Monday, I put a flank steak in a Ziplock bag with a marinade and threw in some sliced portabella mushrooms. Got home Tuesday at 7, threw that flank steak on the grill, and had the most yummy dinner in no time!

Anyway. Thursday took a train back to NYC, connected to the Long Island Railroad, and did a really terrific event at the Northport Library. Doris there is an amazing librarian, and her kids' book club was such fun! The trek back to Manhattan got me to bed after 11, and I overslept this morning, waking to that gorgeous sound of rain. Loved lying in bed and gazing out the window at the rainy street. And the rain did not keep my buddy from meeting me for breakfast before I went back to Penn Station and boarded yet another train to DC this time.

I'm always impressed anew when I step into Union Station here. What a gorgeous building! And then out to the street with the statues and all the marble. Just beautiful. Unfortunately I got right in a car and was taken to the oxymoronic Crystal City. Climbed into bed at the Hyatt and am about to take a cat nap before my talk tonight.

In the morning: another train! To Baltimore and the Baltimore Book Festival. Hoping to get to the Museum of Visionary Arts in the afternoon, then dinner with an old friend.

My panel with Susan Straight is on Sunday at 3, followed by my good friend Laura Lippman's, and onward to dinner with them.

Monday: the train back to NYC! I am getting a lot of knitting done, folks!

Tuesday: the train back home!

Then I am off--by plane--to Wilmington, NC for a few days at UNC there.

I will have just a couple of days to be home, do laundry and pack for a week in Italy. I've got miles to go before I sleep, but that trip is nearing and I'm just starting to get excited...

The Day After

Well, yesterday was simply one of the saddest days I've had in years. Was it because it would have been Grace's sixteenth birthday, that milestone in every kid's life? Was it because I had to spend the day alone here in NYC to teach? Oh, it's pointless I suppose to try to understand why some days just slay you. This one did.

Then the oddest thing happened. Those of you who read this blog regularly might remember that just last week I thought about contacting someone who has been out of my life for some time. I didn't do it. Last night, feeling so melancholy, I walked back from The New School after class, lost in my thoughts. It was in so many ways a perfect fall evening: chilly and clear and all good NYC things. But sad me just wanted to crawl into bed with a glass of single malt and a good book, go to sleep and wake up to the day after. I turned onto Bethune Street, and was right in front of my building when seemingly out of nowhere that very person appeared. I was so startled that I called his name, and he was so startled to see me there.

We stood beneath the lamplight talking for quite some time. Laughing. Catching up. In many ways it was as if no time had passed. He remembered that it was Grace's birthday, and that remembering and acknowledging it reminded me why I had loved this guy so much in the first place.

So much is lost in life. People we love. Friendships gone awry. Misunderstandings and mistakes. Somehow seeing him this way was just what I needed. We hugged goodbye, a good hard hug. Part of me wanted to stand on that street all night. Part of me wanted to make a plan to see each other again. What can be repaired? What can be regained? I really feel that this serendipitous meeting was some kind of divine intervention.

I came inside and got in bed. And it was after midnight. The day after had arrived, and I was grateful.

All these places had their moments With lovers and friends I still can recall Some are dead and some are living In my life I've loved them all...

One of my all time favorite songs, and sums up how I am feeling today. September brings such bittersweetness with it. As Grace'a birthday approaches, I can't help but relive the wonderful days leading up to it. Sam had just started pre-school at Gordon, and my midwife thought the baby was coming earlier than expected (my due date was October 1), so I explained to his teacher that I might disappear soon to have my baby girl. Her eyes popped. "You're pregnant?!" she said. "Nine months," I told her. Grace was only 6 pounds, three ounces. Such a calm and beautiful baby.

We went to a fundraiser at Slater Mill and I sipped my first glass of wine in months, with midwife's blessing. I remember the blousey black dress I wore, the cool September air, how happy I was. Grace was just days away.

The night before I went into labor, I ate pasta with pesto because my midwife said pesto helped bring on labor. I woke early with the first signs. Lorne was off to a meeting in Boston, so Sam and I stayed in bed together talking about his new baby sister coming, me with one eye on the clock as I timed my pains. Soon enough, I called my father who came and brought Sam to school, then took me for a midwife visit. She told me the baby would be born that night and I should go home and eat to build up my strength. My father made me my favorite beef stew and I ate it up. Lorne arrived back home and the pains were coming fast and furious. While he loaded the car, I lay on the floor of our foyer, which is where our new nanny found me. She'd been with us about three days! We got to the hospital around 4, and Grace was born at 6:40 PM.

There have been moments these past few days when I miss her with such intensity that I actually double over.

My family has had such a big loss this year with the death of Auntie Dora in a car accident. And then my mother's best friend died just a few weeks ago. Maybe this is why this year feels especially sad, and makes me think of other people I've lost, like my friends Barbara and Karla.

But also people I've lost over misunderstandings or bad behavior. This morning I almost emailed an old friend who is the only person who would enjoy a funny thing that happened to me. A few years ago we had a falling out and although I hear about him from time to time, and have even glimpsed him, I stay away. Today I thought: why not? and looked up his email address. But I chickened out. And I reminded myself WHY we're not friends anymore. Do I really want to open that door? Yet I am in such a sentimental weepy mood, that I want to reconnect with everyone I've loved, let bygones be bygones, and have them back in my life.

Maybe we should all email an old friend we've lost today...

As I often do when sadness takes hold of me, I read poetry. Today I found comfort in Ruth Stone and Yeats, and this by Emily Dickinson:

I measure every Grief I meet (561)
by Emily Dickinson
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, eyes –  I wonder if It weighs like Mine –  Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long –  Or did it just begin –  I could not tell the Date of Mine –  It feels so old a pain –  I wonder if it hurts to live –  And if They have to try –  And whether – could They choose between –  It would not be – to die –  I note that Some – gone patient long –  At length, renew their smile –  An imitation of a Light That has so little Oil –  I wonder if when Years have piled –  Some Thousands – on the Harm –  That hurt them early – such a lapse Could give them any Balm –  Or would they go on aching still Through Centuries of Nerve –  Enlightened to a larger Pain –  In Contrast with the Love –

Autumn in New York

Stepped out of Penn Station into the most perfect autumn weather here in NYC. As I walked down 8th Avenue to my little sublet on Bethune Street, I had a smile on my face. How I love the fall here. The crisp cool air and blue sky, the thrum of the city streets. And today I woke up to another perfect autumn day. Watching big white puffy clouds in that blue sky out my window.

Lots of teaching this semester to prepare for none next semester when i hit the road for THE OBITUARY WRITER publicity.

I'm already teasing out a new idea for a new novel, which is always exciting. I love the time when the characters and the story live only in my head almost as much as I love when I start to write that story. There is something so private and exhilerating about carrying a story around with me that no one knows yet. I like rewriting sentences in my mind, changing characters' names and playing with the structure, with HOW to tell the story, all while walking down the street or sipping my coffee. Just me and my story. This phase can last quite a while, so the timing is good--teaching a lot takes away writing time. But I don't need the writing time at the computer yet.

So my story and me are off into this beautiful autumn day...

First Day of School

Oh, September! Such a mixed bag of emotions for me. The new pencil chalk dust memories. The pictures of each of my kids standing in front of school with backpacks bigger than them. And 1996, nine months pregnant with Grace, Sam off to pre-school, and women who would become my friends for life still new faces. September. Always a symbol of hope for me. Of promise. Grace born on September 24. The most beautiful baby I ever laid eyes on. F. Scott Fitzgerald's 100th birthday. Surely a fortuitous day. A promise for a bright future. And so when September comes now, after losing my Gracie too soon, I find myself both hopeful and sad; eager to pack lunches and sharpen pencils and bake cookies; and paralyzed by grief.

But let me count my blessings: Gogo turned 81 yesterday. Annabelle went off to third grade with a gap toothed smile. Sam got the lead in a play at school. I'm teaching and writing, knitting and reading. In a month I'll be in Italy, even as I plan trips to Norway and Alaska over the next year.

And oh! I had that beautiful funny smart little girl for five years! A blessing that.

Goofing Off

Well...not exactly. But after a spring spent mostly revising my new novel, and a summer spent mostly teaching, I find myself unmotivated this week. Lots of puttering around the house, lots of cooking, lots of just being.

We are in the midst of rearranging some rooms, a project that has been ongoing since we bought the house in 1999 and which in spurts goes full speed ahead. What used to be my knitting room is now Annabelle's studio for her art and homework and playing. What used to be the guest room is soon to be my new knitting room. Just got a daybed with pretty duvets and a big armoire for it. The couch from my old knitting room is now in the TV room. The club chair from the old puzzle room is also up in the TV room now. The love seat in the fancy living room has been recovered in red flowers and stripes, and two new red chairs have been brought in. The reds look dazzling against the dark green walls! Love it! And the puzzle room has been transformed by the re-covering of our faded old green wingback into a bright blue and white pattern with an ottoman in a different blue and white. Plus my new puzzle table and my pink Cadillac lamp. Also: got rid of the old dining room chairs (yay!) and have the red leather ones with the seats done in a red, white and gold pattern at the table. Everything looks so fresh and pretty and colorful! Who knows, someday we may actually get the kitchen re-done (a girl can only hope!)

I have been making tomato pies in batches of twos, and they are getting eaten as fast as I make them! I have been making it since the recipe first appeared in Gourmet about a thousand years ago, and I only make it when tomatoes are fresh--like now! It is one of those recipes you simply can't ruin. It calls for either scallions or basil, though I almost always use fresh basil from my garden, last night I used both and it was terrific! Any good melting cheese works. The biscuit crust makes up in the food processor. Delicious no matter what. Here's a link to it:

http://www.roanoke.com/columnists/macy/recipes/wb/wb/xp-45124

Last night I also made Curried Chicken salad with cashews. Yummy! Two nights before I made Chinese Chicken Salad. Ditto with the yumminess.

I went out for dinner a couple of nights ago at Cafe Zelda in Newport. It was such a perfect night there. Steak au poivre delish. Even though when I left and slid gracefully across the banquette I dragged the corner of the tablecloth with me, and pulled off everything on the table--wineglasses, plates, water glasses, everything! And yes, it all broke. Still had a good dinner...

I am getting my usual back to school blues, but trying to treat myself kindly and take each day slowly. This is probably also why I am very unmotivated this week.

However, Annabelle has had a dazzling array of play dates, sewing classes, and trips to fun spots, like the Aquarium and Staples for supplies :)

We are throwing a dinner for several friends who are dropping their kids off at Brown on Saturday. I'll be making: figs stuffed with gorgonzola, wrapped with prosciutto, and baked; over roasted tomatoes with feta; (Olga's) cornmeal crust pizza; pork tenderloin with roasted garlic, herbs and bacon; corn salad; pasta with pesto and peas. A cornucopia of summer!

Sunday it's off to the Cape with friends. I intend to bring  book and my knitting, to sit by the water, to drink some nice cocktails, and say goodbye to summer...

Last day at Bread Loaf

Always a sad time when Bread Loaf comes to an end. I first came here as a contributor in 1984 and it changed my life. Bread Loaf made me realize I was a writer, and I left here that long ago summer day a different person than I was when I arrived.

So many new friends made, so much time spent with old friends.

Last workshop this afternoon. Last readings this evening. Then a dance and packing and rising early for the drive home.

I am looking forward to next week and spending every day with Annabelle--horseback riding and sewing lessons, a trip to the Bronx Zoo and the New Bedford Aquarium. Time to buy school supplies, pencils and notebooks and markers.

After all this time, the beginning of the school year still feels like the beginning of something new to me. Some people make resolutions at New Year's. I find that I make them now, as the afternoon light changes and children wear new shoes and backpacks.

This fall I am going to put myself on a schedule, partially because I have so much work and partially for comfort. Back to Pilates and yoga. Back to a work schedule. And even an attempt at a housekeeping schedule ("Your house," someone said standing in my kitchen and looking around, "looks like people live here." I think that's a good thing?), or at least at getting my knitting room finally finished...

Half done with my second Wave blanket, the purples a beautiful combo.

More knitting this fall. More reading.

Fresh starts are always a good thing, yes?