Here I am, I’m here. I’m right here, I was over there but now I’m here, you’ve wondered haven’t you?
I mowed the lawn yesterday, the one on the side, not in back. And I left the lawnmower sitting there in the middle of the yard all night because I thought it looked artistic. I’d take a picture and show you except I don’t know where A. has the peripherals to the camera. There’s a little cord, you know, or a thing that puts the camera pictures on my computer where I need to have them to put them here.
So I didn’t take a picture. I still may, for posterity, and show it to you next year and see if you remember.
I am working today, working working. A short piece about crazy love, and then the usual, that damn book.
Aunt Betty is here and she is doing everything for me, everything, it’s decadent. And also the blueberries are finally blue and we’re walking back there every so often and eating them.
I just finished an interesting piece for a very respectable organization and in my bio, I did not mention this, what I’m doing right here, this little “site”. I think you ought not to tell people either, I don’t think it speaks well. No one would ever hire me if they knew I only wrote about blueberries, or ants, or men walking into the house (last summer). And there’s that ghastly thing, still, about animal porn and when all the respectable editors start googling “animal porn” they’ll find me and immediately refuse to hire me.
So anyway, new place, new bio, and I acted like I didn’t even know about this, and maybe I don’t. What are you talking about, I don’t even know this teresa difalco person, I don’t even know what you mean!
I would like M. to write a memoir, he tells the best family stories of everyone I know and then when he starts writing observational essays for the Times and The New Yorker because he’s famous for his memoir, he would not have to include this blog right here in his bio and we’d all be relieved.
Now, I’ll write. But not here, in a Word document called “Good Wife draft33.docx” (I have the new Word, it adds the little “x”. I also have to remember to save my things as old Words so other people can open them.)