I’m driving to Portland today, I do that lots now. I’m driving in there to work even though I should be taking care of the noise on my car, I think I even told someone that — more than just one, I’ll bet — I said “I’ll take it in tomorrow” (this was yesterday); I seemed sincere.

But I don’t want to take it in, I want to go to Portland. I want to do what I need to do there and then hear L. read her great stuff. Thursday I’ll come home and pick up where I left. Where did you leave? Do you know how to pick up? Speaking of that, I need R. here more times. I’m lousy at picking up.

Yesterday M. and I went to the naked spa and got scrubbed. They scrubbed and then poured on milk and honey and if you saw me or felt me now you’d swear I was 12. Not really. 32. I’m very soft.

L., did I email you back? It was 5 this morning and I wrote one up and meant to but can’t tell if I did. The point is lets do Friday, that’s what I’d love.

We carved pumpkins thanks to T. We barged into his home to view order and tranquility and then we stole two carvers and mimicked their gig at home. T. was making pies. I am telling you. They’ve got it down.

When you come over today I won’t be here, so don’t rob me blind, leave my soup on the porch.

It’s raining, but you know that if you’re here. I’m reading some history today, local stuff. Flying saucers and scandals and murders, things like that. If you come over, I have gum. It’s a new flavor from Orbit, I think it’s called Mojito Mint. I don’t like it, you can have the rest of the pack if you want.

It’s exhausting to tell you everything, I’ll just stick with today, then, and the rain. Oh, and my coffee pot, it’s new. The old one is broken and so my mom came here and bought one that’s new. The kitten is purring, there are spiders moving on the wall. The battery on my phone should be charged, the pool could use maintenance, there’s a movie I want to see and I’d like to braise lamb shanks at least once this week. No one knows where the dog is, I suppose that’s fine. The weekend was interesting, they should be. I watched football on Saturday because I do that now. Craig’s birthday is Halloween and my cousin Cheri’s just passed (I forgot! Happy Birthday!) And, as I told you, the new book includes murder.

So I’m thinking of murders. Only funny ones, though. Dark quirky ones, eccentric offals, something like that.

I’m also thinking about hustlers and nine-fingered hookers. The rest of you are probably looking at spreadsheets. Send one, please, if you have time.

I have library on Wednesdays (today). Last year it was Tuesdays and I hardly did anything because there was a real librarian and she let me run the stamper. This year, though, no money so the librarian’s gone; I might have to do more. Worksheets, for instance, real library stuff. I have martinis with the librarian now and mostly we talk about boys. Maybe I should ask her about Melvil Dewey who had three wives. Or maybe I should ask about worksheets.

Monday I drove to Andina and parked across the street because there’s a cheap easy lot there, it’s on Glisan and 13th. Or maybe it’s 11th, I don’t remember for sure, who cares. The point is, when I paid for the spot no ticket came out. I put my card in the machine, it said I paid, no piece of paper came out, I did it again and again still nothing. Then I kicked the machine and that hurt my foot and later when I was done with Andina, I came out to my car and there was a ticket. Megan explained it to me yesterday because she parked in the same cheap lot. The tickets were crumpled and balled and getting caught clear in the back, there was no way to see them. Still, for some reason Megan knew to stick her arm in and grope for her receipt and so she found hers and didn’t get a ticket. Isn’t it silly?

At Andina a man played guitar and we were all in swell moods and we’d all been divorced. Well, some were technically pending, but you know what I mean. Same thing. We had bubbly so we toasted to it, divorce. It seems tacky but that’s what you do, gallows humor. There was lots of it. Sometimes it helps.

I had some coffee today, I wish I had more. I’ve got two books humming along I’ve already said that. There’s rain, there are soccer games, there is a cup on the table that needs picking up. See you later.

Last night when I pulled up there were deer in the yard, there were probably 50. Or maybe it was five, still it seemed like lots. And while it’s not so unusual here to see deer, it just seemed so last night. They were milling around the mailbox and on the way taking Tessa home they were running through yards, they were rampant.

On Mondays R. (Rosalinda) orders my house. She makes it perfect for me and she leaves cactus salad so when I come home on Mondays I feel great. The clothes are washed and in drawers, the magazines stacked neat. The clutter is all gone, the kitchen smells good. So there was that yesterday and then Andina. And at Andina there were two bottles of bubbly that we drank for my book. Premature, yes — no deal’s been struck — but it’s in and that’s the main thing, and I’ve already moved on.

There are two more in the hopper, it was TriggerTreat, I think, who asked. There is a quirky murder story for one, it’s set right here. It has a wine theme threaded through so I’ll make wine all day with Todd. But it has to be quirky, T., I only want the quirky side of wine.

There is also the Woody Allen, the one about hustling, the one I’ve called Hustling Woody Allen but will have to change because he’ll sue. That is the one with the nine-fingered prostitute, it’s sure to be a smash.

There are people I must call back, so I can’t sit here all day. Savanna is here and A. is at Sean’s and then sun is out, a bird flew by, S. spelled my name with an H.

There are people, too, I’ve been running into them lots lately, who know my last name as Bozarth. It’s odd to hear that again. I doubt I’ll keep it, it’s so much trouble to change a name. But it’s nice to hear it, odd or not.

L., I’ll be at your party. Until then I’ll be here, waiting for double-shots.

Hemingway had 52 cats.

I’m in my favorite office today, where they all know my name, where they sometimes wait on me and sometimes not. Today they gave me cappuccino. They remember I like two shots, they always put a brown sugar cube on the side. And today, for the first time, I used it. I dropped it in. I dropped it in my hot coffee drink and stirred it around and I was surprised to find out that it’s good. You might think that would seem obvious, but I don’t like sweets and if you knew me at all you’d know that. I’m appalled, in fact, that you don’t. Thanks a lot.

There’s a new server today in a yellow shirt, I like the yellow. They normally all dress drably and I don’t mind, but today I’m melancholy and the yellow looks nice. I wouldn’t wear yellow myself, it would bug me; yellow, I’ve always thought, seemed preachy. But it looks nice on the new girl and she’s not in my section so I don’t see too much of it, it’s just right. Yellow, and brown sugar. This has been quite a morning.

I’m on Chapter One of the next book, did you know that? I need a great first line, though, it makes it all hum. I can put a bunch of stuff down, but can’t really get rolling until the great first line comes along. If you have one, I’d like it. Hemingway had 52 cats, for instance. I think that’s a nice first line. Don’t steal it.

I read some stuff about cliches a few hours ago, but haven’t read a good book. I’m short on inspiration, you’ll help me out there I know. Why don’t you all come for lunch and I’ll fix soup. We’ll chase it with brown sugar cappuccinos.

Divorce is lousy business, so are affairs. There was once no hate or betrayal in my life and now there is.

Still. It’s garbage day and the kitten is sitting right on the dog. Now Scruffy, if he decides to work, will know what it’s like to be burdened by kittens while he works. He’ll have more empathy, I think. Kittens are cute.

There’s a Mario Kart contest at my house tonight, you can come if you want. I’d love for you to come, in fact. Bring some dip.

My daughter will not eat breakfast. She wakes up mad and doesn’t eat breakfast and she moves unreasonably slow. I have no idea if they’re related, these things, but I’d like to fix them before Halloween. My jump shot has improved since last week, but that’s apropos of something else.

There are people on planes that are flying to Tampa today. They know two card tricks and they might require special chairs. Their mothers have brilliant advice and are wise about halibut. I was once on a plane back from Nassau and it dropped in the sky much too fast and I was certain I was going to die. I looked at A. and he pretended nothing had happened. He wouldn’t look at me, not even a hand-squeeze goodbye. I should have known then. LOL.

Someone claimed to have seen a turkey in my yard, I forgot to tell you. It was some time ago. I’m not entirely sure I believe them.

Hug a turkey today. If you see one.

The thing about kittens is that they’re cute if you have nothing to do. If there’s nothing to get done in the day and you’re happy to lie around with something to read maybe and a kitten on your neck, well then they’re great. If you’ve got lots to do, however — first drafts of second books, edits on other work, etc. — then kittens sometimes hinder.

Because my life seems odd and illogical this week, I’ve little to write. It would be impossible to explain to you, there’s a series of unexpected things, they’re all nice.

Barack Obama played poker to break into the Illinois Senate, to show he was one of the guys. I’m going to play poker, too, I’m starting tonight.

I made risotto yesterday, it’s relaxing to make risotto. And G. made Caesar salad and A. (jr.) cleaned the house. We put on music and set the table and even lit candles we were all very fancy. Then after that we watched a movie, one we’ve seen several times and like. We watched it on the wall, there’s nothing like watching a movie on the wall. Sunday C. and I watched A Place in the Sun on the wall and stared at Montgomery Clift’s impossibly thin waist. Then for reasons having nothing to do with his waist we sorted grapes for a short while Monday. We sorted pinot grigio grapes for T., and C. got stung by a bee but I didn’t, and a lot of bees and even earwigs end up going into your wine, did you know that?. Instead of blackberry and licorice notes, next time I’m calling out the spiders. “Ripe, rich and round with lots of spicy earth-scented hornet flavors and a hint of wolf spider on the finish.” That’s what I’ll say. That’s how I’ll describe the wine, the very next one I drink.

Right now I’ve got a kitten to move from my neck and a first draft to do and please bring me soup today, it’s cold outside I’m going to need it.

I have a lunch date, an appointment, a plan so I can’t talk long. It’s killing the idea I had that I’d run, too, because my time’s almost out but there are other times to run. For instance, after lunch.

It’s picture day today and we thought we’d beat the system and use our coupons for Free Dress (G. and A. are at a uniform school, I maybe haven’t said that). So we Free Dressed and when we got there they said “No Free Dress on Picture Day” so that’s how that went down. Not well.

G. has a substitute, A. still has a fat lip, C. got him homeopath-ish cures for his canker sores. I am unnaturally healthy. In fact, I’m eating yogurt.

I missed another play date with the Hamina grapes because of work. We miss too many play dates from work. I’ll play this weekend to make up.

The kitten is far too cute for me, the small house is almost all done, Laurie spoke beautifully on Wednesday, go see her tomorrow at Wordstock at 1:00pm.

The cat is cured, it has antibiotics. It was sick and made strange sounds and it was down to 2.5 pounds but now it’s cured, it was Very Tall Vet. He cured it.

C. is back and I like her here. She’s in the little house where there’s no heat (because they’re tearing up the floor, they’ve shut the heat off) but she bought an electric blanket and some shades and also some curtains. Wait — I didn’t think to ask her about that, do you have shades plus curtains? Seems like you’d only have one.

The cat and dog both sit on me when I work, it’s cumbersome. The sun was out, the kids were late to school, G. has a jammed thumb and Jr. a big fat lip. None of it happened on my watch, I’ll tell you that much.

There’s a reception tomorrow, it’s Wordstock this week. Laurie is reading on Saturday, from the book I told you to buy, and there’s a reception tomorrow night for her and that will be fun. M., I’m taking S. S. is here and he’s his usual crazy self. He’s here for the week so he’s coming with C. and I to receive Laurie. If you want to come, too, that would be great.

Life is the funniest thing. Isn’t it? Yes, it’s very funny.

They’re odd, transitions. This particular one affects what I write. While I had A. trained and conditioned to be a character in my tireless monologue, for instance, there’s someone new now and he’s not really into that. Hmm. Which presents challenges for me. Because this is my warm-up, you know. I write silly words for you like pianists do their scales, I write silly words here about my rodents and ants and my knocks on the door from strangers and then it inspires other things over there, where I work. Where I write fiction and sometimes non-fiction, but either way words I try to sell.

So there’s a character who’s new and while we haven’t explicitly made any rules, I think he’d prefer to not appear here. But he has to appear, how do I do that? He bought a ping pong table, I’ll tell you that much. I don’t think I’m betraying anyone’s privacy by telling you that.

There is a cat, it’s the strangest thing. There’s a cat that lives somewhere nearby and it reminds me of The Flintstones. I oftentimes work in my front room because it’s the prettiest room in the house and it has lots of windows. When I work here I can see the side yard, the side yard is open not fenced and there’s a tiny little street, but more of a driveway than a street, it goes to Ned and Ty’s. On the other side of the driveway/street is a big open field and then a creek. Hmm. Open, I guess is what I’m saying and I don’t even know why I’ve bothered to say that. None of this is necessary for what I’m thinking about the cat. The cat runs up the street. It runs from Ned and Ty’s house to Kim and John’s in one direction, it runs only one way. It does this dozens of times a day and some days more. I have never once seen it run the other way, towards Ned and Ty’s, I swear it never has. It runs over and over and over again past my window and it reminds me of when one of the Flintsones used to run through the house. Remember? It took them miles and days to get through it, and they passed the exact same lamp and table 352 times.

That’s all. About the cat. A good friend, I knew him from New York, is coming to my house tonight. You know him, M., remember? Remember S.? He’s coming here, tonight. It should be good, you ought to stop by, too.

Before that I’ll run in the garage. I’m doing that right now.

Ciao mein.