a perfect day

Another photo from the launch, sent by my editing client Judy, who is writing a book about photographing birds. Here she shot another exotic bird - the happy writer.

People have asked about postpartum depression - a slump after the release of the book. Not here, at least not yet - too much to do. Lots to do to publicize the book, not that I've started - but there's a list. But also, it's heading into autumn, so there are the last veggies to use up - made a peach-rhubarb crumble with the last of my rhubarb, delicious - and of course, the final cucumbers and tomatoes.

Most importantly, time to reconnect with my grandsons, who were away for a month. Eli came yesterday for a sleepover; he rode his bike over with his dad, nearly 11 kms., and then the 3 of us went for another ride on a beautiful afternoon; the city has closed Bayview to cars on the weekends, so we rode on the highway all the way down to Cherry Beach on the lake, where we watched the wind surfers and ate hot dogs and fries and then rode back. Nearly 10 k. His dad took off, and we went, of course, to the two playgrounds near the house, where at one he made a friend and ran and climbed and jumped and shot hoops for an hour. In between, an enormous meal, watering the garden, and 3 games of Snakes and Ladders. Bath, story, and bed at 7.45, by which time Glamma was beyond exhaustion, mostly from just watching him, and was in bed by 9.30! A perfect day, truly.

A boy and his dad

Covid never far from our thoughts

Today, more games, including a version of Scrabble for kids, terrific, and, thank God, a bit of TVO, which I support monthly and am profoundly grateful for every time he comes to visit. There's a new segment with a cheerful mouse talking about Covid and face masks and hand washing.

He and I rode to Joe Fresh to buy him back-to-school pants - he has outgrown everything, according to his mother; we bought him size 10-12, though he's 8. He's attending classes next door with their neighbour Greg, a retired school teacher who has volunteered to spend 90 minutes a day educating this bright young man. Friday, teaching him proper versus common nouns, be still my beating heart.

While we were at Joe Fresh, a voice behind me said, "Beth, I love your book!" It was Sarah, niece of my friend Ken who bought 10 copies for family and friends. Sarah and I were both masked and unrecognizable, but she recognized my voice. Is there anything more welcome for a writer to hear than those words? I think not. Well, perhaps, "You're on the NYT bestseller list!" Or "Here's the latest huge royalty cheque." Those would be welcome too.

A beautiful evening. The garden is particularly lovely because the days are shorter, the nights are colder, we know it's all slowly shutting down. A last explosion of beauty.

I have a million things to do, including beginning again to move my poor moribund body - but for now, a glass of rosé, a moment of peace.