Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Strange Days

What a strange few days it has been. My mother-in-law died. I dislike the term, "mother-in-law," but it answers the question of relationship. I shall not say much, except what is obvious. We are all sad.

Meanwhile, my trip to California is coming up quickly. Some of the luster is gone because of the family tragedy. Allen even mentioned not wanting to go. My desire faltered as well. However, we are going. I will be teaching writing workshops again at Esalen in Big Sur. I have been looking forward to it for several months. Ultimately, I am happy to have the opportunity to see the Pacific Coast again. Brian (our son) will be living here and watching our animals.

My story "Trash" just came out in The Sun which has a new website. You can look at the contributor's notes of the issue that my story is in if you click >here<

Speaking of websites, for some weeks I have been trying to put together a website for myself. I had basically finished it except for a page where links got ruined. They still work but look bad. Now the site won't let me fix anything; it just keeps prompting me to make a new blog. I can't even delete the one I just finished. Oh dear. Maybe this is what I get for using a free service.

Strange days, strange days.

Posting is likely to be irregular until I get back on my pony again.

3 comments:

Cynthia said...

I'm sorry to hear about your mother-in-law and your famkily's grief. Y'all are in my prayers. I hope everything in Esalen goes wonderfully.

Anonymous said...

You dispelled the mystery by telling us which one of your loved ones passed, even when you did not have to. Thank you. Also, I LOVE your bio in The Sun. Teagrapple

emmapeelDallas said...

Theresa,

I'm sorry for your loss, but glad to hear you'll be teaching writing workshops again in Big Sur.

Congratulations on the publication of Trash, and I visited (and like very much) your new website!

Judi

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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken

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The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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