It's hard to focus on a hard revision when my new home remains chaotic and I could be organizing, cleaning, and hanging up pictures, rather than fixing this book. The news, which is heartbreaking everywhere, every single day, also makes it difficult. But I am focusing and fixing the book, because it feels even more awful not to. I stuck this on my new window. In the meantime, it isn't all chaos. Here's one of my favorite kitchen nooks, full of treasures. The Scully candle says "Our Lady of Common Sense." These little guys live on my writing desk. My magic wand and my magic umbrella are in position. My new home has lots of charm but few electrical outlets, so I've had to get creative in some places… like in my bathroom, where these little solar-powered night lights charge up every day in the window. Further afield, yesterday in New Jersey, we got together with this distinguished gentleman… That's my dad. .
Showing posts from July, 2016
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We decided to go to Float , this place in Somerville where you close yourself inside a small floating tank with body-temperature water containing a thousand pounds of Epson salts (causing guaranteed flotation), and, in silence and complete darkness, float for an hour. Why, you ask? Curiosity, I guess. You step into this tank of water and close the door. I went into this with no expectations, other than looking forward to doing absolutely nothing for an hour in the midst of a very stressful week (my moving week!). People who float regularly talk about amazing meditative experiences, and while I wouldn't say I went into this with cynicism, I definitely wasn't expecting an amazing experience. I was prepared for the possibility that it might be relaxing, just as I was prepared for the possibility that it might be completely stupid. Turns out I loved it. While Kevin in his tank was apparently spinning around in circles and running a series of hilarious experiments (wh