Thursday, August 16, 2007


So the nephew got married and the books were signed and the wind blew everyone else back to Oregon.
And Amy and I drove to South Carolina, the accents and tea getting sweeter and thicker as we headed south. Funny how, in the West, you can spend all day leaving Wyoming and entering Nebraska, and in the East you can, all in one day, leave Pennsylvania, drive through Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, and North Carolina, and enter South Carolina.
I spent the night with Amy and saw a bit of the countryside, then she and her landlady, Ruth Troyer, took me to the airport and I said goodbye and sat in the waiting area and cried the tears of a mom saying goodbye.
I got to Portland at some dreadful night hour, and Paul picked me up, and took me to a motel, where he had placed a bouquet of roses in our room and lo, it took some of the sting out of my grief.
We drove home the next morning, which was yesterday, but I had time only to change and clean up a bit, because I had signed up to be at the authors' table at the Lane County Fair, since it was Seniors' Day and seniors are my biggest fans.
And a number of seniors spent a bit of their retirement fund on my books, which I greatly appreciated.
Emily joined me for the last 6 hours, which was very helpful, because I could go get coffee or something and she could answer people's questions.
The other authors were gracious as always and welcomed Emily warmly. The two mystery writers, Shirley Tallman and Carola Dunn, were fun to catch up with, and I enjoyed meeting Jo-Brew, who I think also once wrote a book about a Harrisburg mom of teenagers, and hearing explorer Bill Sullivan's stories. And we even met the infamous, quintessential-Eugene icon who lives in a trailer without plumbing and once took on the Oregon Supreme Court: Frog. He set up his joke books next to us. I find authors to be nice people and hope I don't ever ruin their reputation.
Today I am very very tired. I unpack and clean for a while, and then I rest. It's great to be home.

Quote of the Day:
"You have buttons!"
--a mystified woman at the fair, staring at my blouse. She thought I was Amish.

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