I had to smile at a comment left on my last post, from Anonymous. Anonymous is sometimes not very nice to me, but I liked this one. Made me feel missed.
Well, let's see. I took a left turn at Beset and wound up in Fraught. Re-routed, drove around in curlicues and ended up with a cloud of steam coming out from under my hood just outside Overwhelmed. Ever been there?
It all started when I gave seven talks in 8 days, trying to maximize my time in the Boston area, April 23-May 1. I drove alone for 2430 miles, all of them in pouring rain. I had a most marvelous time and showed a lot of people a good time, too. I saw two of my sisters and a niece, spent precious wonderful time with Phoebe and Corey and Hodge and John, saw my artist friends at my show opening, made it to Mt. Auburn Cemetery five times in 8 days (!!), ate too much, saw many many tulips and daffodils, and gave a talk every day. Practically sold out of books, and came home with money. Beautiful! The way it should be.
I got home on Monday night, May 2, and by that Wednesday I had the car unloaded, all the laundry done and was packing the car solid to the ceiling again with books and gear for my trip to the New River Birding and Nature Festival in West Virginia. This would be the 14th keynote in a row I've given for this festival, each one of them different. And on Saturday night Bill and I and an assemblage of professional musicians hurriedly put together would provide three hours of very fun music.
So I'm driving down to the festival on Thursday afternoon with Liam and Chet and I ask my son to hand me some Quaker Oat Squares because I'm famished. Instead he asks if we can open a bag of popcorn. And before you know it I'm eating it, dammit, knowing I shouldn't, and I'm being careful but the bag is getting down to seeds and sticks, and a single old maid has found its way like a tiny smartbomb to a molar on the left side of my mouth, the opposite side from the two new crowns I just got in mid-April, and there is a terrible cracking sound and suddenly I am cursing and drooling and holding a shiny little quarter of my tooth in my hand. And that little pearly item, my friends, is another $2400 down the drain, the third time in less than a month that this has happened. You do the math. I can't stand to.