Sunday, September 10, 2006
It’s been a busy weekend.
I went to my first meeting of the Georgia Writer’s Association yesterday afternoon. Really interesting group. There are dues, levels of membership, structure. There are several writing professors in the group. Various people read from their stories or poetry. I liked the stories, but the poetry bored me. I spent 3 years in grad school listening to incomprehensible but precious poetry read in breathless voices by nincompoops convinced of their own genius. Needless to say, I didn’t fit in with the literary crowd at UT. LOL.
The short stories were excellent. There was one chapter of a book read by Vally Sharp, the lady that I’m talking to about publishing my book. She’s an excellent writer. Now I’m intimidated. At our meeting the other day she gave me an autographed copy of a little book she wrote, written in the voice of her cat. That didn’t impress me much. How wrong I was…
Kate, my translator friend, has finished translating the children’s book into Russian. Zoya, the illustrator, says she will have the illustrations to me in a week. Those Russian ladies work fast! I am so delighted. I just wish we could get the book done asap. I think Vally is not a person who rushes into anything. I am waiting on her to get me a price for the publishing.
Alesia had Elena and Anya over yesterday and they spent most of the afternoon at the pool, which was great for Alesia. I try to get her together with other kids on the weekends. Right now the little girls from across the street are in the backyard with her, playing badminton. Alesia loves to play, but she won’t run to hit the shuttlecock, and rarely sweats while playing.
The temporary crown in my mouth bugs me all the time. It’s like having a pebble wedged in my gums. I hate it.
I am grateful every day for the wonderful bin system that my brother put into our food pantry. There are plenty of shelves and bins that pull out, and it’s neat in there. Before, there was no order and we’d forget we had a lot of the foods. There are things Mother uses every day on lower shelves so she can reach them easier.
We found a bunch of my books from childhood in the garage the other day, and Alesia immediately appropriated them for her room and Matthew’s room. For the past two nights, before going to sleep, she has had me read a story to her from a wonderful book of children’s bible stories. She says she read them in Russia. I think she finds the stories comforting. If it gets her interested in the bible, great. I am very nostalgic about the book, since Papa Hasty used to put me in his lap and read to me from the exact same volume.
Alesia and I had a good discussion yesterday about what happens after you die. I told her that death is just a doorway, and there is another existence. She isn’t won over yet, but she’s curious, and I think she wants to believe. I am trying not to get too excited, but to gently lead her towards faith in God.
We were in Kroger today, and Alesia did something so funny. She knows to open the carton of eggs and check to make sure they are not broken. Mother asked her to get a tub of cream cheese. Mother made some comment about it being fresh or something. Alesia slipped off the lid and started to peel back the foil top. Mother and I both had to yell at her to stop! I’ve had to do that once or twice before. When we got in the car, I had to explain that it’s NOT OK to open things in the store like that – only eggs are OK. Just when I think she’s completely American, something like that happens.
It’s funny how the past sneaks up on you sometimes. This is the 10 year anniversary of Dad’s death. Alesia and I were cleaning out some junk in Matthew’s room today, and I ran across some old audiotapes my father had made. I would’ve just put them quietly away, but Alesia wanted to hear them. We put a tape in her boombox and listened for a few minutes. It was so eerie, hearing him. It was like he was right there with me again. Comforting and sad at the same time. The other day when Bruce was here, I came upon him outside, and when he turned to look at me I saw Dad in his face. I have never thought Bruce looked like Dad, but in that instant, it was so clear.
Dad is making himself known in my consciousness in very direct ways lately. I hope these things are harbingers of a change in my luck. I need it to get better, soon. I believe in signs – I believe they are from God.