About 5 years ago I had my first interview when Bob Welch came to talk to me when Ordinary Days (the self-published version) first came out.
I think I was a bit of an uncooperative topic because I had never given much thought to such things as the writing process and what I want people to take away from my writing. I remember I said, several times, "Listen, I'm just me. I just write. There's nothing profound about me or my life. I don't think a lot about why I write and all that."
I used to listen to author interviews on NPR and would roll my eyes and think, "Oh will you just get over yourself?" as these authors would go on and on about their voice and their process and their inspiration and their all kinds of other dreamy words that really don't mean much.
My theory was, just write it and get it done.
Well. I've been interviewed a few time since then and learned to drum up fancy-sounding answers to probing questions because these poor people really do need some material to work with. I think maybe I got a little too good at this.
Today a very nice woman from Brownsville was here to talk to me because she needs to interview an author for a communications class she's taking. Oh my. I had never faced such detailed questions in my life. What is my goal when I write? What is my thought process? How much do I carry writing over into daily life, even when I'm not writing? When do I know I'm finished? and much more.
Well, would you believe I really got into this. How flattering, that someone actually wants to know what I think about, how I visualize the writing process, what is most rewarding about it. I pulled vague dreamy NPR-sounding phrases out and dangled them around like I really knew what I was talking about. "It's like a picture in my mind, and then I'm trying to arrange a puzzle to replicate what's in my mind."
"So you're very visual?"
"Yes!" [too happily]
I'm afraid I enjoyed it way too much.
And talked way too much. Bless her heart, Ms. Cieri never yawned or turned glassy-eyed. And she has enough material for three essays, at least.
Later I had a sudden horrible fear that her "class project" was just a front, and in reality she's doing a comic radio show on how authors just go off about themselves if given half a chance, and here's Our Prime Example [roll tape].
This is the subtle pitfall, I think--to start to believe that it really is important what I'm thinking, how I motivate myself, what I visualize, how I self-edit.
As opposed to just sitting down and doing what needs to be done, and then going and feeding the chickens and studying my Sunday school lesson.
Praise God for the people in my life, much as I resent them at times, who keep me grounded and remind me that I am not more important than anyone else and I should just get over myself already.
Quote of the Day:
"I found my skirt that I was missing. . .in the bottom of my sleeping bag."
--Amy
Saturday, August 29, 2009
How to Order Books
Various people have asked how to order Emily's and my books, so here's how.
To order my books (Ordinary Days, Upstairs the Peasants are Revolting, Downstairs the Queen is Knitting), mail a check for $12 ($10 for book, $2 for postage) to me at this address:
31148 Substation Drive
Harrisburg, OR 97446
Emily's book ("Emily"):
You can order them from me at the above address for $8 plus $2 postage per book.
You can also order them (signed!) from Emily at the same price, but I'm not going to put her street address here for the world to see, so if you want to get them from her, email her at jemilys@gmail.com for instructions.
Thanks to everyone who asked.
To order my books (Ordinary Days, Upstairs the Peasants are Revolting, Downstairs the Queen is Knitting), mail a check for $12 ($10 for book, $2 for postage) to me at this address:
31148 Substation Drive
Harrisburg, OR 97446
Emily's book ("Emily"):
You can order them from me at the above address for $8 plus $2 postage per book.
You can also order them (signed!) from Emily at the same price, but I'm not going to put her street address here for the world to see, so if you want to get them from her, email her at jemilys@gmail.com for instructions.
Thanks to everyone who asked.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Amy's Teeth
I don't think I've seen someone come out of anesthesia since Paul had hernia surgery 22 years ago and I gave him some contraband Mt. Dew too soon and he threw up and then he mumbled, "Why don't you just go shopping?" so I did, and he never remembered saying that.
Today Amy and I went to town and she had two troublesome wisdom teeth removed. I sat in the waiting room with a laptop on my lap and had barely 15 minutes of work done on my next column when the nice lady came in and said I can come on back. "And bring all your stuff with you--you'll be leaving out the back." I saw the wisdom of this little procedure as time went on--imagine being a terrified person in the waiting room and seeing these glassy-eyed swollen-mouthed patients staggering out.
I was taken to a little anteroom and there was Amy seated in a recliner, with a puffy mouth and a bandage on her elbow and a clothespin thingie on her finger connected to a monitor that beeped and blinked. Her eyes looked a bit tired but really she didn't look as bad as I expected.
But she kept trying to talk, and that was just weird. Her mouth was numb and stuffed full, but she kept trying to make me understand. "How long have you been here?" "How long have I been awake?" "When did you get here?" And, weirdest, she grabbed at the cord to the monitor and mumbled, "I just have all these things coming out of me," and then she realized it was only one cord, connected to her finger. Oh.
And when the nice lady brought her teeth in a little bag, Amy desperately wanted to know which had come from which side of her mouth.
But she didn't divulge anything juicy or embarrassing. And now she remembers none of this.
Now she's up in her room propped up on pillows, still heavily sedated, and eating yogurt and peach shakes whenever we change the gauze.
Not much fun, but better than years of having wisdom teeth coming in sideways.
Quote of the Day:
"If clones of Mom ruled the world, 99% of the commerce would be between mutual garage sales."
--Ben
Today Amy and I went to town and she had two troublesome wisdom teeth removed. I sat in the waiting room with a laptop on my lap and had barely 15 minutes of work done on my next column when the nice lady came in and said I can come on back. "And bring all your stuff with you--you'll be leaving out the back." I saw the wisdom of this little procedure as time went on--imagine being a terrified person in the waiting room and seeing these glassy-eyed swollen-mouthed patients staggering out.
I was taken to a little anteroom and there was Amy seated in a recliner, with a puffy mouth and a bandage on her elbow and a clothespin thingie on her finger connected to a monitor that beeped and blinked. Her eyes looked a bit tired but really she didn't look as bad as I expected.
But she kept trying to talk, and that was just weird. Her mouth was numb and stuffed full, but she kept trying to make me understand. "How long have you been here?" "How long have I been awake?" "When did you get here?" And, weirdest, she grabbed at the cord to the monitor and mumbled, "I just have all these things coming out of me," and then she realized it was only one cord, connected to her finger. Oh.
And when the nice lady brought her teeth in a little bag, Amy desperately wanted to know which had come from which side of her mouth.
But she didn't divulge anything juicy or embarrassing. And now she remembers none of this.
Now she's up in her room propped up on pillows, still heavily sedated, and eating yogurt and peach shakes whenever we change the gauze.
Not much fun, but better than years of having wisdom teeth coming in sideways.
Quote of the Day:
"If clones of Mom ruled the world, 99% of the commerce would be between mutual garage sales."
--Ben
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Lesson #1: You Never Know
Emily has been learning all about The Writing Life: Selling Books, especially the first lesson which is: You Never Know.
So we had that signing at Barnes and Noble, heady stuff, with lines of people waiting patiently to meet us, dozens of books sold, and the manager coming by to personally thank us.
Then we geared up for the fair. The Lane County Fair is always one of my biggest events of the year and I always make sure I'm there on Seniors' Day, Wednesday, when my biggest fan base comes by to say hello and buy books. I've sold up to 50 books on Seniors Day in past years. So several months ago, when I first got the email from Bill the organizer, I signed up Emily and myself for Wednesday. And then I made sure we both ordered lots of extra books for the day.
Wednesday was a very hot day. We headed for town after lunch and parked in the field by the fairgrounds and shlepped our boxes and water bottles over to the gate and then past the monster truck corral and over to the big main building and into the Atrium, a large room with a glass roof, and there we found our spots along the crowded Authors' Table, between Bob Welch and Dan Armstrong.
The afternoon wore on and things went steadily downhill. Sitting in that glass-roofed room on a day when it was 101 degrees at the airport was not to be described. I think there was a faint whiff of air conditioning out in the hallway at some point, but it was lost in the heat and crowds, and as soon as people entered our room they gasped and exclaimed because it was even hotter than the rest of the building.
I was afraid Emily would faint so I kept her supplied with water. She had on this nice blouse but it was tight across her back and she said if she only had a loose t-shirt she thinks she'd be ok. So I went into the huge booth area where you can get cool gutters and chamois cloth and energy rocks, and found a plasma-donor booth with free t-shirts--in size XL only. I took one back to Emily and she went and changed, throwing fashion to the winds, and came back with this blue t-shirt that hung on her like a sack, but she felt much better.
So there we were, sitting and waiting in the heat, and very few people came by. It turned out that the fair was under new management which had decided, just the week before, to suddenly switch Seniors' Day from Wednesday to Thursday. Furthermore, they had neglected to list the specific times that each author would be at the fair. So all those wonderful people who normally come to say hello had no way of knowing when we'd be there. And all the slots for Thursday were full, so we couldn't come then.
We talked a bit about packing up and going home, but writers are a tough lot, and we just knew that if we did, someone would get off work early specifically to come see us, and we wouldn't be there.
[Since we stayed, this person didn't show up, of course, and we sat in the heat and tried in vain to catch the eye and interest of hot, bored people who walked by.]
It was very sad and disappointing, and now we both have lots of inventory on hand that will probably just sit here for a while.
But I think the lesson is definitely getting through to Emily: You Never Know. I guess I needed a refresher course as well.
Quote of the Day:
"But it may have been better this way, because just think of all the older people who would have keeled over in that heat."
--Dan Armstrong, who is more considerate than I am, about the change of dates for seniors
So we had that signing at Barnes and Noble, heady stuff, with lines of people waiting patiently to meet us, dozens of books sold, and the manager coming by to personally thank us.
Then we geared up for the fair. The Lane County Fair is always one of my biggest events of the year and I always make sure I'm there on Seniors' Day, Wednesday, when my biggest fan base comes by to say hello and buy books. I've sold up to 50 books on Seniors Day in past years. So several months ago, when I first got the email from Bill the organizer, I signed up Emily and myself for Wednesday. And then I made sure we both ordered lots of extra books for the day.
Wednesday was a very hot day. We headed for town after lunch and parked in the field by the fairgrounds and shlepped our boxes and water bottles over to the gate and then past the monster truck corral and over to the big main building and into the Atrium, a large room with a glass roof, and there we found our spots along the crowded Authors' Table, between Bob Welch and Dan Armstrong.
The afternoon wore on and things went steadily downhill. Sitting in that glass-roofed room on a day when it was 101 degrees at the airport was not to be described. I think there was a faint whiff of air conditioning out in the hallway at some point, but it was lost in the heat and crowds, and as soon as people entered our room they gasped and exclaimed because it was even hotter than the rest of the building.
I was afraid Emily would faint so I kept her supplied with water. She had on this nice blouse but it was tight across her back and she said if she only had a loose t-shirt she thinks she'd be ok. So I went into the huge booth area where you can get cool gutters and chamois cloth and energy rocks, and found a plasma-donor booth with free t-shirts--in size XL only. I took one back to Emily and she went and changed, throwing fashion to the winds, and came back with this blue t-shirt that hung on her like a sack, but she felt much better.
So there we were, sitting and waiting in the heat, and very few people came by. It turned out that the fair was under new management which had decided, just the week before, to suddenly switch Seniors' Day from Wednesday to Thursday. Furthermore, they had neglected to list the specific times that each author would be at the fair. So all those wonderful people who normally come to say hello had no way of knowing when we'd be there. And all the slots for Thursday were full, so we couldn't come then.
We talked a bit about packing up and going home, but writers are a tough lot, and we just knew that if we did, someone would get off work early specifically to come see us, and we wouldn't be there.
[Since we stayed, this person didn't show up, of course, and we sat in the heat and tried in vain to catch the eye and interest of hot, bored people who walked by.]
It was very sad and disappointing, and now we both have lots of inventory on hand that will probably just sit here for a while.
But I think the lesson is definitely getting through to Emily: You Never Know. I guess I needed a refresher course as well.
Quote of the Day:
"But it may have been better this way, because just think of all the older people who would have keeled over in that heat."
--Dan Armstrong, who is more considerate than I am, about the change of dates for seniors
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Family Photos
Ruth from Swartzendruber Photography came and shot us the other Sunday. Click here to see the photos. I am downright vain about my beautiful family. Indulge me, I'm the mom.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
For the Locals
Emily and I plan to be at the Lane County Fair today from 2-8pm and Friday from 5-8. Stop by and say hi if you can. We'll be at the Oregon Authors' Table in the main building, in the glass-roofed section.
Also, Emily is having a book signing at our house tomorrow (Thursday) evening from 7-9.
Call if you need directions--541-995-3773.
Quote of the Day:
[Clatter clatter bang] "I hate being short!"
--Amy, in the kitchen, apparently trying to get something in an upper cupboard
Also, Emily is having a book signing at our house tomorrow (Thursday) evening from 7-9.
Call if you need directions--541-995-3773.
Quote of the Day:
[Clatter clatter bang] "I hate being short!"
--Amy, in the kitchen, apparently trying to get something in an upper cupboard
Monday, August 17, 2009
Cape Dresses
Someone asked me recently, via a blog comment, what I think of cape dresses. I would love to know what brought this on, but no explanation was given.
(These are dresses with an extra piece of fabric over the bodice, from shoulder to waist, required by many Amish and Mennonite churches, for modesty and uniformity.)
I guess I think of them the same that I think of a lot of other things such as refrigerators, crayons, dogs, and many more temporal things: they can be good and useful as long as you expect them to do only what they are able to do.
I used to wear cape dresses back in the day and never liked them, primarily because I could never get them to fit right, no matter how much fussing and fiddling and fitting I did. It was very frustrating. I really didn't need them for modesty because I always wore bulletproof polyester double knit and didn't have any shape to speak of, and the capes always looked floppy from the side. And I wished I could buy my clothes. So I had a nasty opinion of capes.
But now neph Byran's wifelet Amy comes along with the most chic, pretty, classy cape dresses ever, and she doesn't even have to sew them herself--I think she buys them locally there in Pennsylvania--and I think, ok, it wouldn't be hard to wear capes like that.
Ultimately, modesty proceeds out of your heart, and if it's not there to start with, a cape can't put it there. But once the heart is taken care of, I could see where a cape could be helpful.
And if you decide to be part of a church that requires them, you should wear them without a big fuss. That's sort of basic.
Quote of the Day:
"OOHH! I wish they were ugly!"
--what a relative of mine thinks when some people gush on and on about their grandchildren
(These are dresses with an extra piece of fabric over the bodice, from shoulder to waist, required by many Amish and Mennonite churches, for modesty and uniformity.)
I guess I think of them the same that I think of a lot of other things such as refrigerators, crayons, dogs, and many more temporal things: they can be good and useful as long as you expect them to do only what they are able to do.
I used to wear cape dresses back in the day and never liked them, primarily because I could never get them to fit right, no matter how much fussing and fiddling and fitting I did. It was very frustrating. I really didn't need them for modesty because I always wore bulletproof polyester double knit and didn't have any shape to speak of, and the capes always looked floppy from the side. And I wished I could buy my clothes. So I had a nasty opinion of capes.
But now neph Byran's wifelet Amy comes along with the most chic, pretty, classy cape dresses ever, and she doesn't even have to sew them herself--I think she buys them locally there in Pennsylvania--and I think, ok, it wouldn't be hard to wear capes like that.
Ultimately, modesty proceeds out of your heart, and if it's not there to start with, a cape can't put it there. But once the heart is taken care of, I could see where a cape could be helpful.
And if you decide to be part of a church that requires them, you should wear them without a big fuss. That's sort of basic.
Quote of the Day:
"OOHH! I wish they were ugly!"
--what a relative of mine thinks when some people gush on and on about their grandchildren
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Accomplishments
My very first book signing at a bookstore was at a B. Dalton, I believe. As I recall, eight books sold and I thought that wasn't very many, but the store people told me that if four books sell, it's considered successful.
Yesterday's signing with Emily at Barnes and Noble turned out to be very successful in terms of books sold, but the best part of it was the sheer fun of doing this together.
Andrea the coordinator had widened one aisle over in the Pacific Northwest section, set up a table with two chairs for us, and set up 30 chairs for the audience. So we got to speak sitting down, which is nice. And we shared the microphone, which was of good quality, always something to be grateful for.
The chairs filled up, and about 40 or 50 people were standing, something I have never experienced before. We were helped enormously by Bob Welch's wonderful column last Thursday, and also by the mother-daughter novelty, as I don't think either of us would have drawn such a crowd by ourselves.
Emily spoke first, then I did, and then people asked questions for a while. I had introduced my talk by saying that 19 years ago I gave birth to my third child, and then this year I gave birth to my third book, also on July 6. And then during the question time, a lady asked Emily how old she is, and she said, in blunt Emily fashion, "I'm 19. Didn't you hear my mom? She said that at the beginning of her talk." Horrified, I hissed, "Emily!" Thankfully the asker didn't seem offended.
Then it was time for signing books and talking with people one on one, which is always interesting.
The portly professor of languages showed up again, and again urged me to write an Amish novel.
A woman wondered where we get our head coverings because her daughter just started covering and wants something besides a bandana.
One woman gave me a pack of 64 crayons, tied with a purple ribbon, inspired by my column on poverty. Emily wonders when someone will read that story and decide to give her an American Girl doll.
A number of people had stood at the back, knitting, while we spoke. It turned out there's a knitting club in Eugene, and every so often they band together and knit in public, and they decided to do so at this signing, because of the title of my book. Believe me, it was an intriguing sight to see a bearded man at the back, expertly knitting with four needles.
Nick Harrison's wife gave me a copy of his devotional book on prayer.
Kay Porter from the Red Moons writers group gave me a hug and said she's been sending Reiki vibes to Emily during her sickness.
Meanwhile, several people shared their stories with Emily--a girl who lost a school year because of a head injury, a woman whose granddaughter has diabetes and longs for a normal life, and so on.
B&N had ordered 70 of each of our new books. 61 of mine sold, which is phenomenal, but all 70 of Emily's sold, plus a few, so they had her sign "book plate" stickers for the overflow.
I wish I could have seen a glimpse of this during the darkest days of her illness.
While we were signing in comfort, the boys of the family plus Keith the nephew and Trenton the friend were climbing the South Sister, one of the highest peaks in Oregon, where you climb 4900 feet in elevation in 5.5 miles. It was Matt's fifth trip up, and the hardest, since he hasn't been sacking seed this summer. Sacking doesn't sound like great preparation for climbing, but I guess it is, judging from how much easier it was for the young(er) guys. Matt says the last part of the climb is about 1500 feet up a pumice-covered slope the angle of our flight of stairs going upstairs.
Paul and I are thinking about having a goal of climbing the South Sister together the summer I turn 50.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Amy and Jenny, like Cinderella staying home from the ball, took care of the three little neighbor kids whom we kept for two days.
These three provided us with lots of entertainment and nostalgia, since they are the genders and approximate ages that our three oldest were some 17 years ago. Six-year-old Jayce told us how he likes to watch "FBI." Not sure what that is, exactly, but he likes it. And he said:
Quote of the Day:
"I watch it just in case I'll be an FBI."
(pause)
"But I think I'll be a preacher."
Yesterday's signing with Emily at Barnes and Noble turned out to be very successful in terms of books sold, but the best part of it was the sheer fun of doing this together.
Andrea the coordinator had widened one aisle over in the Pacific Northwest section, set up a table with two chairs for us, and set up 30 chairs for the audience. So we got to speak sitting down, which is nice. And we shared the microphone, which was of good quality, always something to be grateful for.
The chairs filled up, and about 40 or 50 people were standing, something I have never experienced before. We were helped enormously by Bob Welch's wonderful column last Thursday, and also by the mother-daughter novelty, as I don't think either of us would have drawn such a crowd by ourselves.
Emily spoke first, then I did, and then people asked questions for a while. I had introduced my talk by saying that 19 years ago I gave birth to my third child, and then this year I gave birth to my third book, also on July 6. And then during the question time, a lady asked Emily how old she is, and she said, in blunt Emily fashion, "I'm 19. Didn't you hear my mom? She said that at the beginning of her talk." Horrified, I hissed, "Emily!" Thankfully the asker didn't seem offended.
Then it was time for signing books and talking with people one on one, which is always interesting.
The portly professor of languages showed up again, and again urged me to write an Amish novel.
A woman wondered where we get our head coverings because her daughter just started covering and wants something besides a bandana.
One woman gave me a pack of 64 crayons, tied with a purple ribbon, inspired by my column on poverty. Emily wonders when someone will read that story and decide to give her an American Girl doll.
A number of people had stood at the back, knitting, while we spoke. It turned out there's a knitting club in Eugene, and every so often they band together and knit in public, and they decided to do so at this signing, because of the title of my book. Believe me, it was an intriguing sight to see a bearded man at the back, expertly knitting with four needles.
Nick Harrison's wife gave me a copy of his devotional book on prayer.
Kay Porter from the Red Moons writers group gave me a hug and said she's been sending Reiki vibes to Emily during her sickness.
Meanwhile, several people shared their stories with Emily--a girl who lost a school year because of a head injury, a woman whose granddaughter has diabetes and longs for a normal life, and so on.
B&N had ordered 70 of each of our new books. 61 of mine sold, which is phenomenal, but all 70 of Emily's sold, plus a few, so they had her sign "book plate" stickers for the overflow.
I wish I could have seen a glimpse of this during the darkest days of her illness.
While we were signing in comfort, the boys of the family plus Keith the nephew and Trenton the friend were climbing the South Sister, one of the highest peaks in Oregon, where you climb 4900 feet in elevation in 5.5 miles. It was Matt's fifth trip up, and the hardest, since he hasn't been sacking seed this summer. Sacking doesn't sound like great preparation for climbing, but I guess it is, judging from how much easier it was for the young(er) guys. Matt says the last part of the climb is about 1500 feet up a pumice-covered slope the angle of our flight of stairs going upstairs.
Paul and I are thinking about having a goal of climbing the South Sister together the summer I turn 50.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Amy and Jenny, like Cinderella staying home from the ball, took care of the three little neighbor kids whom we kept for two days.
These three provided us with lots of entertainment and nostalgia, since they are the genders and approximate ages that our three oldest were some 17 years ago. Six-year-old Jayce told us how he likes to watch "FBI." Not sure what that is, exactly, but he likes it. And he said:
Quote of the Day:
"I watch it just in case I'll be an FBI."
(pause)
"But I think I'll be a preacher."
Thursday, August 13, 2009
My Cup Runneth Over
I am at that stage I hit every summer where the little bucket in my head starts overflowing. Here's the family's schedule this week--maybe that'll explain why.
We note that through all this Paul works 16-hour days.
Monday--Vacation Bible school in the evening for me, Jenny, and Steven.
Bob Welch came in the afternoon to interview Emily.
After Bible school Paul whisked me away to the Hilton in Eugene to celebrate our 25th anniversary. (A longer trip coming this winter, we think)
The boys worked their usual warehouse shifts--Ben 6am to noon, Steven 9-2, Keith 2-10.
Matt came home for the night.
Tuesday--Paul took me out for breakfast but had to answer about 10 phone calls while we ate.
Jenny went to the neighbors to find out how to feed the cat and chickens.
Paul spiced up his life by dropping his phone in purple paint.
Jenny went to her friend Kaelin's house overnight.
The boys worked as usual.
VBS again in the evening.
Wednesday--Amy and Emily drove down to Ashland to spend part of two days with Marni, another author in the Louder Than Words series.
Neph Randy came by to borrow our van while they have family here.
Emily had her web show so I sat in Pioneer Villa for an hour and watched and ate, then went to VBS from there.....and in the middle of VBS Keith the nephew called and said he never got his supper at the warehouse, so I had to call Ben and Paul to figure out what was up, and Emily texted me to ask if I'd help her pay to see a Shakespeare play, and Jenny's bee sting was itching like crazy, and a child in another class was found with head lice, and I being the senior mom was pulled aside to give advice
Boys at warehouse as usual.
Thursday--Jenny started taking care of Coffeys' animals while they're gone.
VBS program in the evening.
The girls came home safely after I left for VBS.
The boys worked.
Matt came home again.
And looking ahead:
Friday--We babysit 3 little ones for two days while their folks go to the Freedom Rally in Washington.
I take Ben to Albany for his drivers test.
Jenny feeds Coffeys' animals and also Leroy and Anita's dog--this is vacation season for the neighbors.
Steven's friend Trenton comes to spend the night.
I buy/prepare food for the boys on Saturday.
Boys work.
Saturday: All the boys go hiking--up the South Sister I think.
Emily and I have a book signing at Barnes and Noble.
We take the three littles to their house in the evening to put them to bed.
I feel like if I were still on the sunny side of 40 this list not only wouldn't overflow my bucket, I might even have plenty of sloshing room. But we all know only too well which side of 40 I'm on.
Quote of the Day:
"I guess sacking seed kind of impairs your judgment."
--Ben, explaining why he was limping
We note that through all this Paul works 16-hour days.
Monday--Vacation Bible school in the evening for me, Jenny, and Steven.
Bob Welch came in the afternoon to interview Emily.
After Bible school Paul whisked me away to the Hilton in Eugene to celebrate our 25th anniversary. (A longer trip coming this winter, we think)
The boys worked their usual warehouse shifts--Ben 6am to noon, Steven 9-2, Keith 2-10.
Matt came home for the night.
Tuesday--Paul took me out for breakfast but had to answer about 10 phone calls while we ate.
Jenny went to the neighbors to find out how to feed the cat and chickens.
Paul spiced up his life by dropping his phone in purple paint.
Jenny went to her friend Kaelin's house overnight.
The boys worked as usual.
VBS again in the evening.
Wednesday--Amy and Emily drove down to Ashland to spend part of two days with Marni, another author in the Louder Than Words series.
Neph Randy came by to borrow our van while they have family here.
Emily had her web show so I sat in Pioneer Villa for an hour and watched and ate, then went to VBS from there.....and in the middle of VBS Keith the nephew called and said he never got his supper at the warehouse, so I had to call Ben and Paul to figure out what was up, and Emily texted me to ask if I'd help her pay to see a Shakespeare play, and Jenny's bee sting was itching like crazy, and a child in another class was found with head lice, and I being the senior mom was pulled aside to give advice
Boys at warehouse as usual.
Thursday--Jenny started taking care of Coffeys' animals while they're gone.
VBS program in the evening.
The girls came home safely after I left for VBS.
The boys worked.
Matt came home again.
And looking ahead:
Friday--We babysit 3 little ones for two days while their folks go to the Freedom Rally in Washington.
I take Ben to Albany for his drivers test.
Jenny feeds Coffeys' animals and also Leroy and Anita's dog--this is vacation season for the neighbors.
Steven's friend Trenton comes to spend the night.
I buy/prepare food for the boys on Saturday.
Boys work.
Saturday: All the boys go hiking--up the South Sister I think.
Emily and I have a book signing at Barnes and Noble.
We take the three littles to their house in the evening to put them to bed.
I feel like if I were still on the sunny side of 40 this list not only wouldn't overflow my bucket, I might even have plenty of sloshing room. But we all know only too well which side of 40 I'm on.
Quote of the Day:
"I guess sacking seed kind of impairs your judgment."
--Ben, explaining why he was limping
Welch column on Emily
Bob Welch was here the other day and talked to Emily about her book. The column is in today's paper. Click here.
And he has a picture of her and a few quotes from the book on his blog.
And in case any of you watched her webcast, please know that we do plan to teach her how to explain what it means to be Mennonite.
(Ok, in case you didn't watch....there was a live feed where you could ask her questions, and someone asked what a Mennonite is, and she was completely flummoxed by the question, which kind of proves the point that Mennonites tend to just do but not talk about what they do, but kind of an embarrassing moment for the mom....really didn't realize she wouldn't know how to explain this.)
But hey, pretty much everything else was articulate, funny, and well spoken, and she didn't panic when the screen went blank for minutes at a time.
Quote of the Day:
"She writes with a wonderful touch of teenage panache."
--from Welch's column, a phrase that will make Emz very happy I'm sure
And he has a picture of her and a few quotes from the book on his blog.
And in case any of you watched her webcast, please know that we do plan to teach her how to explain what it means to be Mennonite.
(Ok, in case you didn't watch....there was a live feed where you could ask her questions, and someone asked what a Mennonite is, and she was completely flummoxed by the question, which kind of proves the point that Mennonites tend to just do but not talk about what they do, but kind of an embarrassing moment for the mom....really didn't realize she wouldn't know how to explain this.)
But hey, pretty much everything else was articulate, funny, and well spoken, and she didn't panic when the screen went blank for minutes at a time.
Quote of the Day:
"She writes with a wonderful touch of teenage panache."
--from Welch's column, a phrase that will make Emz very happy I'm sure
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