September - back to ... to what?

The family are back safely after a two day, one night sprint from Nova Scotia - heroic driving by Anna, but also amazing sitting for many hours by two little boys. Went over to visit today, to be with them while she got groceries and then returned the rental car. She'd brought back fresh oysters and mussels, a collection of rocks, and a deep hankering to return; her friend Ashley has 3 kids, all her neighbours have kids, and they share a huge backyard. The boys were able to go wild, without supervision, playing outside till it was dark. As Anna said, that's what it was like for me, but they've never had that.

Not to mention coves, swimming and beaches, fish and chips, new friends, many adventures. I took them up Roncesvalles to their favourite sushi place and then to a playground, and then, time for Jenga with Dad.

Naan is back with her family. I will miss her lying on my papers as I work, but I won't miss the puking, that's for sure.

Anna brought me a bright watercolour of Pictou, which she told me is the Mi'qmak word for 'fart,' and a chocolate bar from the Syrian family who've made a huge success with their chocolate business. Delicious. I feel so much better now they're back in town. Eli starts tomorrow going to the neighbour, who used to be a teacher, for 90 minutes of learning. Anna's not sending her kids to school. Phooey on Doug Ford, leaving class sizes enormous, endangering kids and teachers.

Tomorrow here, full steam ahead to prepare for the launch Wednesday. There's a big Raptors game that night, but luckily it's on after the launch is over, and anyway, perhaps Beth Kaplan readers and rabid Raptors fans are not necessarily the same demographic.

It's fall. September first came and so did the morning and evening chill; though the days are still warm, I wore jeans today for the first time in months. What will happen to distancing, to the patios that are keeping restaurants and bars - and my son - alive, when it gets cold?

But still, time for aperitif on the deck with Monique, who took this. Cheers!

TRUE!

I want this shirt!

Labour Day silence

"Don't take my moaning too seriously," I wrote to Jason yesterday. "I'll be like this for the next week or more." I'm watching friends get their books in "Must read this fall" lists, excerpted in major magazines, the writers themselves being interviewed in fine places. That's how it's done and I celebrate every moment of their success. But part of me is as jealous as I was 20 years ago, watching other children win prizes at the end of the school year, a parade of kids going up to accept their awards, and never, not once, did either of my children win anything. "But they're so terrific!" I was thinking. "Not even a tiny bit of public recognition?"

It's like that and will be until this era of book launch settles down. I think the solution would be to start something else right away. But watching my children not win prizes, my first thought wasn't, I'll have another child immediately!

A different scenario, I know. And - I was in fact interviewed by the estimable Esther Arbeid from the Miles Nadal Jewish Community Centre, for a segment they call "Kibbitz with Esther." Fame!
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1BEWiq_swtj7ZSqOMGLgNvSgmWEelrmD9/view?usp=sharing

My friend and student Brad has offered to listen to the audiobook, so, before it's uploaded, we can do one final check for glitches. And then it's off to the races.

It's a cool grey Labour Day weekend, and the city is deserted, dead still, wonderful, hardly a car, and certainly no construction. Anna and gang are on their way back from Nova Scotia after what sounds like a restorative vacation. My tall son is coming over for a visit tonight after many weeks. He shared this with me and I'm going to share it with you: a woman in a wheelchair had a meltdown a few weeks ago at his bar; Sam calmed her, got her into a cab, and paid her tab. She came back and left him this note with some money:

Atsa my boy.

This solitary time is a blessing. I went to the market this morning so the fridge is full of corn and peaches and beans - apples next week. After a battle with Rogers yesterday, the TV is fixed, I think. Many books to read. And three new, just picked cucumbers.

In the night - much awake time these days at 4 a.m - I realized what the biggest flaw of this new memoir is. Won't tell you, yet at least, but I know it. Which means I should be able to fix it in the next book. Stay tuned.

musing about the Democrats

I just took a look at last September's posts - seems another planet now, but interesting to see what my impressions of the Dem debates were. I really disliked Kamala Harris and didn't think much of Joe. Fingers crossed all the way now, for them both! On Sept. 13 2019, I posted this:

the Democrats - hope for humanity

A glimmer of light on the horizon - I watched most of the Democratic debate last night, and my hopes for the future of our planet and our benighted species began to flicker again. What an intelligent, compassionate, articulate bunch they are. I don't understand why Biden is the frontrunner, except for name recognition and association with Obama; he's often almost incoherent, and he said something that put me off instantly: when Bernie actually brought Canada and Scandinavia into the health care debate, Joe snapped back,"This is America." As if the experiences of another country are irrelevant to his exceptional country. How stupid is that.

Bernie had a passionately articulate explanation of Democratic Socialism, but tho's wise, he's shouty, irascible, and hoarse. Two definite no's: Castro was vicious, and Kamala Harris seemed to feel she was at a casual lunch with friends and kept laughing at her own jokes, perhaps trying to set herself up as relaxed and open as opposed to Warren, the quivering bundle of intensity next to her. Klobuchar is just not enough. Mayor Pete and Beto are good men, I loved them both, but I can't see either of them with enough momentum or a broad enough appeal to win the Presidency. Corey Booker is amazing and possible.

But at the very top - it's Elizabeth Warren all the way. She's a taut, concentrated fighting machine, fierce and focussed but likeable, on message, with warm, relevant personal anecdotes that didn't seem forced or folksy. Go Elizabeth. Save the world.

The difference, the chasm, the Grand Canyon between even the weakest of these candidates and the man currently running the country, and his party, is so extreme as to be laughable if it weren't so tragic. There is another America full of brilliant principled people desperate for change. It is beyond heartening to be reminded of that.

P.S. My cousin Ted the New York lawyer wrote, about all these Dems I admire, "None of them is electable." My heart sank, but then my spirits rose. I have two words for him, and those words are: BARACK OBAMA.

reports from "Loose Woman" readers begin to arrive

JOY! First, there's NO NOISE. Could they be finished the reno? Or just torturing me, taking a brief break before returning to drill and slice and blast once more? For today - a cloudy day with rain to come - the air is soft and damp, there's silence, and it's heaven.

But also - I just returned to Doubletake, my favourite second-hand store, for the first time since February. You have to line up outside, they only let in a limited number of masked people, but I got in, saw my friends there, all the ladies from Sri Lanka who've been working there since forever, and meandered. It's not nearly as interesting as it used to be, but still, it's fun for a quick visit; I bought a Uniqlo top for $5.

It felt good to go back to a familiar place. Maybe now I'll venture to the Y. Though I can't imagine the Y in a mask and without the familiar classes, just the machines, or my friends. I miss my Y friends.

The taping of the audiobook finished yesterday with the last two chapters and a repeat of the first, a better job the second time around, I hope, as I'm comfortable with the process now. Still, I was listening to it last night and wrote to Jason, "It's not badly read but it's BORING!" To which he replied, "Lol my friend. You wrote it. You know it. You know what’s coming next. Are you as enthralled with a movie you’ve watched 35 times? Be easier on yourself. xo"

Good point. I forgot how vital it is that someone hold the hand of the nervous writer, even on the release of her fourth book.

Nick is reading it and wrote, "Beth, this book is fabulous! I’m just reading about your parents, and kind of aching to have known them. I can barely tear myself away from the photo of the two of them playing Mozart. À suivre."

Yes, they were something.

And Ken wrote, "I feel very privileged to have a friend who writes with such honesty and gentle kindness."

Thank you, dear friends. A week to go before this baby is officially born. The work isn't over - the job of getting it to readers never ends - but I hope I can begin to clear my desk of 1979 and think about what's next.

In the meantime - busy with writing the press release, going to the post office with stacks of books to mail, and cucumbers.