So I scraped by through November and into December, reading a dozen novels by Iris Murdoch, writing a few journals here and there, and preparing for two readings at Busboys & Poets in DC and the U. of Maryland, thanks to Zool (Paul) Zulkowitz, Marietta Hedges and her students, and Deborah Rosenfelt. The lively interlude included time with AnnJ Gumbinner, my daughter-in-law, and a brief breakfast with David Lauter.
in the middle, and Autumn on the left.
And then in the middle of the month, for nine days, ending on Christmas Day, I had the care of Yoya, the maltese who belongs to Don Thomas and Jorge Cao, and who keeps me smiling through late-night and early-morning walks. But I never wrote my end-of-year-letter. In that sense I broke a tradition that went back at least 20 years…. And I can’t decide whether to patch it over and produce one of these letters for 2011, or let it go.
So here I am asking Jeannette Petras, my cheery guru, whose mugs and bowls grow more beautiful, to send this out as a blog—and as a promise: I promise to reform, to cheer up, to write more regularly, and especially to write about the extraordinary two weeks in Vietnam. If you are among the few who check my blog, do tell me what you’d like to hear about.