The Skinny Around Here:

I am roughly 5 issues of The New Yorker behind.  I've always wanted to say that.

The offspring is going COO-COO for blueberries. 

Joel has been sick with a stomach bug for almost six days now.  He's broken.

I feel like I have forgotten how to use my camera.

The evenings are divine, with Cherry Garcia FroYo and the latest, lingering light.

I have a slight tan for the first time in 10 years. 

Camping exists to expose all of my character weaknesses. 

I have actually been swimming this summer.  This is tragically uncharacteristic. I will return to a lake yearly from now on.  (I spent weeks of my childhood summers camping on Lake Mead then on The Colorado River). Joel and I went baby-free camping for 3 whole days at Sun Lakes. It was really hot, and I daresay I was only miserable 60% of the time.  See prior comment.

Joel spent his summers travelling from Maple Valley, Washington, to Alliance, Nebraska.  I am determined to make the same trek one of these summers.

I am newly discouraged after many weeks of happiness.  Sadness mixing with self-pity mixing with restlessness. It's time for me to go back to work. I have a second interview this week for a Technical Writing position and I am fingers crossed all the way.  I'm really rather uncomfortable relying on my husband's income for such a long period of time.  An interesting article on that here.  Listen, I am married and I love being married.  Part of that means that we lean on each other, but financial times are different.  Even if nothing happens to our emotional relationship, if Joel were to suddenly die or lose his job, we would be royally effed.  I genuinely believe no capable adult should be 100% financially dependent on anyone else for an extended period of time, male or female.  Times, they are a'changin.

We have a new car.  Did I tell you?  We have been struggling to get Bowie in and out of our two-door VW Golf for over a year now.  I persisted in the search for a new car (what an overwhelming and defeating process) within our budget and finally found one on Craigslist.  It's a same year VW Passat with fewer miles, four doors, V6, leather seats, manual (a must!), sunroof, and in really great condition.  Although I feel like an over-privileged whitey driving it (and miss my zippy little Golf).

Phoenix d'Sangaré Gomes was born July 23rd at 5:17am.  By a random turn of events, I was able to be there for the birth and take photos.  Have you ever attended a live birth?  The moment the child emerges from all the toiling and planning and expectation, it's nearly the biggest relief and greatest joy I've ever experienced. I didn't even have those feelings at my own birth, as I was a bit tired and shocked.

I'm reading a lot of memoir, as I have been almost solely focused on writing creative nonfiction myself for the last six months.  Currently it is Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?(which is actually a bit slow and I'm forcing myself to finish) and a Cheryl Strayed recommended fiction The News from Spain which is lovely so far. Next is a local author, Brenda Miller's Blessing of the Animals.  I am proud to say that I've read almost exclusively women authors for over a year now.  I was severely out of balance in my male/female reading ratio.  It is much easier to find males to read, but one has to really know the business and search out females, which I am happy to do.  Now let's discuss this.  I hear you saying, "I read what is good! No matter the gender of the author." Well, congrats on that.  But have you examined how you know what is good? What are your influences?  What is your male/female ratio?  Why is this?  I tell you it is because men have been given more chance and privilege and opportunity to succeed for millions of years now.  I love males.  I love their pen.  But it's our turn, ladies. 

SUMMER IS FOR READING!!