or, as my brother says when he asks what's new, "I don't know it." I think I've spent the last couple of days having a pity party because of my foot/ankle/whatever it is, though it's much better tonight. It twinges, but I am mostly walking without a limp. I also spent the last two intensive mornings trying to reconcile accounting for each book published during our last fiscal year. I hate it, though I did find today when I went back, the work I had done yesterday put me solidly on the way to making most accounts work out perfectly. This was a year of transition--from my hand-written list of expenses for each book to a database, but I hadn't made clear to either Melinda or Susan what information I needed. To my great frustration today, they handed me lists and printed out databases, and I tried to explain the need for a paper trail that indicated what had been submitted for payment. I'm afraid I lost patience and so did they, but I think we're all on the same page now. I once told a former boss that God did not mean me to read greenbar sheets, and he said, "Oh, yes, she did." I don't believe it. Susan watched me yesterday and said, "You're creative. You shouldn't be doing that kind of stuff." Amen!
Nice visit last night with Dana, Colin's high-school girlfriend. When she walked in and we got past, "You look just the same," and "you look better," I confessed that I had ruined the asparagus--put it on to steam and forgot it. She looked at the sodden mess on the cutting board and said, "You sure did, girl!" And we were off to an evening of exploring where each of us is now while reminiscing about the past--some 20+ years ago. It was fun to hear her take on the family back then. She said when I finished dinner dishes and walked down the long hall to my bedroom, everyone knew that I was done, checking out, kitchen was closed. But she talked about the conversations at my dinner table--I guess I didn't realize they had some depth and complexity to them. We talked about ideas back then--and Lord, did all of us talk!
I'm still deep in Sara Paretky's Bleeding Kansas, and I may take back what I said about stereotypes--as I've read on, I've realized that she uses them deliberately, ironically, to make a point--yes, she exaggerates and hits us over the head but it's because she's writing about topics she cares deeply about: the folly of the war in Iraq and its consequences to American families, the dangers of extreme right-wing Christianity and its righteousness. Her work in this novel reminds me of Robert Flynn's work--he's a TCU Press author and one of my favorites. My hat's off to her, but I wish I could finish the book so I'd quit sneaking to read it and get back to my own novel. Tonight I plan to work on both. I'm close to finishing the Paretsky novel, and I have a lot of ideas bouncing in my head about my novel--and fortunately also captured on paper.