Going home

I’m giving a luncheon speech in my adopted home town today to a group of ladies who have been meeting for a Book Review since the 1950’s. I imagine it’s not exactly the same ladies—which would be impressive—but you know what I mean. My mother used to attend, and there would be a pleasant bustle beforehand as she chose a nice outfit and got her hair done in a classic french twist.

My friend Julie—she of Christmas tree on the roof fame—attends, and she arranged for me to be invited, even though it appears none of the other ladies—some of whose children I went to school with— knew I existed. It’s a small challenge to engage the enthusiasms of a group when no one has ever heard of your books, but I used to teach American literature to recalcitrant high school students. In those days I practically stood on my head while reading Whitman to engage their interest, so at least I have some applicable experience. And there will be lunch at a country club, which isn’t something I usually do these days.

Last night, in another rare instance, I drove north to Sheboygan to hear a choral concert with a magnificent pipe organ. It was a beautiful old church, the concert was very well done, with music that was new to me, and the pipe organ gave me goosebumps. On the drive home very late at night—for me—I was genuinely astonished at how much activity goes on in the world long after I am normally in bed. There were stores open with shoppers, restaurants with full parking lots, cars lined up in driveways for parties. After nine o’clock! On a Wednesday night!! I asked myself whether staying up later might be an improvement in my life. But then I thought of my solitary mornings and the glittering dawns, and the way the early sun shines through the turkeys’ feathers making a golden halo, and I thought: nah.

Eli, still a puppy here, insisted on including his beloved Blue Dog in the photo

When I got home, my husband was thoroughly engrossed in an Irish crime series, but the dogs were standing at the door watching for me. Eli rubbed himself against me like a giant cat, almost knocking me down. Auggie was so happy to see me he kept leaping up to kiss my nose. Very rare for Auggie. He missed me, and that touched my heart. Eli went back to Dad. Auggie and I had secret cheese.

So I am taking a tiny break from the novel, and maybe, if the predicted thunderstorms do not appear, I will ask my husband to take me out for dinner.

But I will still be in bed well before nine o’clock.

Then, tomorrow, up at dawn. Back to work.