Yesterday I met Marianne Ils, who picked up and will deliver the diary I share with Jutta, the German friend who became my penpal in 1963 and whom I first met in 1997. Marianne brought along Devora, her former roommate, with whom she spent her first week in Mendocino, and Judy the friend she made through Devora, who lives in Bernal Heights and hosted Marianne and Devora this week. We had a really nice lunch and very annimated conversation. They were interested in all that I had around the house, particularly on the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Marianne spotted the framed Ashleigh Brilliant pot shot saying, "Strange as it seems, my life is based on a true story." That led to my getting out my collection of his books and sharing them.
Marianne will return to Germany on Thursday, I think, and get our shared diary to Jutta, following such emissaries as Monica (who brought it to me earlier this summer) and Nicole, who took it and brought it back from Mali!
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
What's on My Mind
In today's Leah Garchik column, the box on Public Eavesdroping has this: Nada. Zip. Nothing. Silence. Blank.
That's what an eavesdropper heard from a family of four tourists, all wearing San Francisco sweatshirts and all silently texting--overheard in Washington Square by Stewart Bloom.
The other bit of news on my mind is aout the monkeys in Argentina who went into mourning when two older monkeys died of natural causes. The younger monkeys were too depressed to eat and had to be nourished another way.
Today I typed up more of my final letter from Algeria--which was actually from Madrid but about leaving Algeria. I also typed up more of the translation into French.
Then I started looking for Mom's mind and the point at which she first showed signs of losing it. I went back to my "Just the Facts" diaries 2003-2011. She and I were still taking David out in 2003 and 2004, and she also went to see Dana both of those years. But even those years there was mention of her not feeling well or not being able to eat.
I want Mom to be the focus of my memoir for the UCLA class I'm taking this fall.
That's what an eavesdropper heard from a family of four tourists, all wearing San Francisco sweatshirts and all silently texting--overheard in Washington Square by Stewart Bloom.
The other bit of news on my mind is aout the monkeys in Argentina who went into mourning when two older monkeys died of natural causes. The younger monkeys were too depressed to eat and had to be nourished another way.
Today I typed up more of my final letter from Algeria--which was actually from Madrid but about leaving Algeria. I also typed up more of the translation into French.
Then I started looking for Mom's mind and the point at which she first showed signs of losing it. I went back to my "Just the Facts" diaries 2003-2011. She and I were still taking David out in 2003 and 2004, and she also went to see Dana both of those years. But even those years there was mention of her not feeling well or not being able to eat.
I want Mom to be the focus of my memoir for the UCLA class I'm taking this fall.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Bar Mops
Today is my day to focus on French, and I've been working on the French translation of my letters from Algeria. I've also begun learning "La Marsaillaise" because Mom had that as her door bell chime. But...I need to say a word about the perfect wash cloth. Somewhere or other one had turned up around the house--maybe come out of the wash. It was wonderful because it was thin and had ridges--a texture that made it close up and personal. I kept trying to find more, but they just didn't seem available in the stores. Then this past week while looking for something else in the houseware section of Ross, I found a whole little bundle. "Bar mops," they said.
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