My friend Sarah has written a children’s book about the history of plumbing. Children’s book or not, I cannot wait until it’s published because it’s supposed to have all sorts of cool/gross stuff about people dumping chamber pots out of city windows and men and women conversing in multi-seated outhouses. Ahhhh, the good old days.

For her book, she needed a photograph of a horse, but not just any horse. She needed a work horse. Our Snoopy is a draft cross so I volunteered him and he was very casual and relaxed about the whole thing. I think he wanted the photographer to think that people are always wanting to take his photo, so be gave the impression of being very unaffected, while, in fact, I know that he was LOVING the limelight.

It’s a beautiful day here and we’ve had a bunch of cold nights so there was ice on the rink.

Yes, that’s a hockey rink at the bottom of the horse field. The horses used to gallop down the hill and hang their heads over the fence of the rink and watch the hockey games with great enthusiasm. I was always puzzled by their interest in the sport until I learned that during breaks, the guys were feeding them Rice Krispie treats and power bars. The last thing I need is a horse all hopped up on power bars so I put an end to that.

We had a great Thanksgiving with many nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters-in-law and a Grandma present. We ate dinner late because Denis taped David Letterman that afternooon. I think everybody tried to wait up to watch it but I don’t think anybody lasted.

Here’s our adorable nephew Blake with the elf, who took a very immediate liking to Blake and spent all day kissing him and cuddling with him.

Who could blame her? Look at that kid!

First, I think I might have jumped the gun in announcing Denis’s NY Times Bestseller status. He sent me this: Download file
and I see it’s dated December 7th. I guess they report this week’s bestsellers next week?

Anyway, today I just want to say how thankful I am to have all you loyal blog readers. As many of you know I began the blog last spring in order to help promote my book, Outtakes From a Marriage. I really didn’t think I’d keep it up, once the book promotion was over. But I have kept it up – this is entry # 224! I have kept at it because of all of you who read it every day and send such lovely emails and comments. I have come to think of many of you as friends even though we’ve never met. I have been working quite hard these past couple of months on this new book and writing in my blog has been a very welcome relief. At least I don’t have to have a plot here (though the day of the sheep attack provided me with a very compelling storyline). So thank you, my dear cyber and real friends, for reading my blog …and keep those comments coming!

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and I hope we all will remember to think of our fellow Americans who are serving overseas, and who must be particularly homesick today.

PS – I wrote the above before I saw the terrible news about the attacks in India. So sad.

Denis’s book:

IS NUMBER 9 ON THIS WEEK’S NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER LIST!!!!!!

Sorry for shouting. Very excited!

I’m sure many of you listen to Garrison Keillor’s Writer’s Almanac program on NPR, but you might not know that you can also subscribe, online, for free and receive daily emails with poems and information about writers. Today was a very nice poem, check it out!

I had a conversation with Garrison Keillor once. If Denis was here, he would debate this, because he was with me and insists that it wasn’t Garrison Keillor, but a bum, that I was conversing with.

We lived in the city then and had two mongrels named Rocky and Pongo. They were both black, scruffy terrier mixes and they looked like they were the same breed, though they were totally unrelated to each other. Anyway, because they were so cute, and looked so much alike, people were always stopping me on the street and asking what breed they were. I decided to make up a breed for them, because I got tired of having to say, “they’re mutts.”

So I started telling people that they were Galway Terriers. There’s actually no such breed, but the funny thing is that many people said things like, “Oh, my aunt had a Galway Terrier,” or “I have always loved Galway Terriers!” I mean, everybody thought they had known other Galway Terriers.

So, one night, Denis and I were walking our Galway Terriers ( I liked to say our brace of Galway Terriers) across Broadway near 89th Street where we lived. There is a divider between the north and southbound avenues of Broadway and at each block there is a bench where you can sit. Often, at night, it’s homeless people sitting there, but lots of regular people sit there too. So, as I was saying, we were walking across Broadway with our Galways, and as we waited for the light, a man said, “Nice dogs!” He was sitting on the bench eating soup from a takeout container. I thought his voice sounded familiar and when I turned I saw that it was Garrison Keillor!

“Thanks!” I said, and I wondered if I should tell him what a fan I was. I just wasn’t 100% sure it was him. I was 99% sure.
He asked what kind, I said, “Galway Terriers,” and he said, “one of my favorite breeds!” Garrison Keillor fell for the old Galway Terrier hoax!

When we crossed the street, I said to Denis, “That was Garrison Keillor!” Denis looked back and said, “That was a bum.”

I said, he looks a little like a bum because of that hat he’s wearing but it was Garrison Keillor! You could tell from his voice!
Well, we argued this back and forth and Denis still claims that we’ve never met Garrison Keillor. I have been wrong before ….a few times. I’m constantly elbowing Denis at red-carpet type parties and saying, “look…Madonna!” only to have him make me see that it wasn’t Madonna at all, in fact it was one of the wait staff. Or, conversely I will often not realize that I am talking to a very famous person and will make an ass of myself by asking what they do for a living. Then there was the time I tried to help Moby with his music career, but you’ve all heard that story.

But it was Garrison Keillor that night on Broadway. I won’t be convinced otherwise.

Garrison Keillor has a collection of the poems from The Writer’s Almanac called Good Poems for Hard Times. It should be an excellent seller this year with these hard times.

Anyway, there’s a poem in it that I love. If you are of a certain age and have been with somebody for a long time, I suspect you might like it too.

THERE COMES THE STRANGEST MOMENT
by Kate Light

There comes the strangest moment in your life
when everything you thought before breaks free -
what you relied upon as ground-rule and as rite
looks upside-down from how it used to be.
Skin’s gone pale, your brain is shedding cells;
you question every tenet you set down;
Obedient thoughts have turned to infidels,
and every verb desires to be a noun.
I want-my want. I love-my love. I’ll stay
with you. I thought transitions were the best,
but I want what’s here to never go away.
I’ll make my peace, my bed, and kiss this breast…

Your heart’s in retrograde. You simply have no choice.
Things people told you turn out to be true.
You have to hold that body, hear that voice.
You’d have sworn no one knew you more than you.
How many people thought you’d never change?
But here you have. It’s beautiful. It’s strange.

Somebody emailed me this image of the statue of Roger Conant, after reading my blog about his curious pose. The unveiling of this statue must have created quite a stir amongst the people of Salem. It would be interesting to see more statues like this – showing our heroes in more candid, relaxed poses. Why must they always be on rearing horses? Why not show them like old Roger – clearly a man who knew how to handle himself in any situation.

The other day, my friend Sarah Albee asked me if I would do her the huge favor of going and looking at a litter of Standard Poodle puppies with her. That’s like asking an alcoholic to do you the huge favor of going out for a few drinks. The plan was that we would look at the puppies today, without Sarah’s kids knowing, because that way, if she wasn’t crazy about them, they wouldn’t be all disappointed.

I actually went to bed early last night, wanting today to come sooner. I told Sarah that I couldn’t think of anything I’d like to do more than look at a litter of puppys, but I did give her the disclaimer that while I might not like every pup in the litter, I was bound to love at least one, and that if she wanted somebody to talk her out of getting a puppy for her family, then I was the wrong person.

But no, Sara has put a lot of thought into this and was going to get a puppy, as long as there was a suitable one, so we drove on over to to have a look. I can’t tell you the amount of self-control it took to leave there without one of these two girls:

I mean, please:

I’m actually still tempted. See, one of my big plans is to breed and raise labradoodles for the blind. They would be for blind people with allergies, since most labradoodles don’t shed. This puppy could be the foundation of my Labradoodle-For-The-Blind line.

This is Sarah with her pick:

They really are nice puppies. They’re in CT and if you’re interested, email me. The breeder wanted me to put her phone number on my blog but I don’t think it’s a great idea. They’re very calm, very well-socialized. Here’s the dad:

Must not go back Must not go back. We already have three dogs. MUST NOT GO BACK.

The other day I blogged about Salem, Massachusetts and showed a picture of the statue of Roger Conant which is erected in front of the Witch Museum on Salem Green. Because he’s there, in front of the Witch Museum, many think he was a witch himself, but Roger Conant was a very upstanding founder of the earliest settlement of fishermen in Salem, and had nothing to do with the witch trials. My friend Laurie informed me yesterday that an ex-boyfriend of hers pointed out that Roger Conant’s sculptor clearly had a great sense of humor, because when you stand directly in front of the statue it’s very clear that under those vast robes, Roger was, well he was …pleasuring himself. I’m not sure if you can quite get the whole effect in this photo:

Okay, I can see that something is at play here. I’m going to ask my sister Meg to drive over and get a better photo for us. We must get to the root of this!

“Yes, it is a witch’s life.” Anne Sexton

So, as some of you know, I’m working on a novel set near Salem, Massachusetts. One of the characters has an ancestor (ancestress?) who was a famous witch. I used to live in nearby Marblehead and went to various schools in New England and met a few people who claimed to be descendents of one or another witch who was hung in Salem. I think it’s interesting that so many claim to be related to the 29 martyrs that were hung in Salem Village, but I’ve never heard one person claim any association with the hundreds of others – accusers, jailors, quiet do-nothings who lived in an around the village.

If you visit Salem, you will be welcomed to “Witch City” when you drive into town. There is a Salem Witch museum, witch tours, even a “Witch Dungeon” you can visit. When I was a teenager, there was a large sign in the middle of town pointing the way to the witch dungeon, but some kids always painted over the last letters in the sign so it said, “Witch Dung” with an arrow pointing ominously across the street.

What many don’t know is that the witch trials happened not in the town of Salem that so celebrates the witch lore today, but in Salem Village, which is now the town of Danvers. Danvers State Hospital, a monstrous hospital for the insane was recently closed. It was called the Lunatic Asylum at Danvers when it opened in the 19th century. It was built on Hathorne Hill, named after, not Nathaniel Hawthorne, the writer, but after John Hathorne, one of the original judges who presided over the witch trials and the only one who never repented. How fitting that latter day witches – the “lunatics” as they called them, were to be confined on his hill.

Now,the hospital has been shut down. I understand that part of it has been turned into condominiums. I wonder if you can still hear the witches at night when the moon is full. The lunar tics and cries and belching and rantings of the former residents.

Here’s a link to my Terry Gross interview.

Terry Gross really did make me sound better than I was.

Thanks to all of you with the kind comments and emails that gave me the courage to listen to it!

I wish I could somehow download the audio right here. Will see if I can.

Many months ago, I was interviewed by Terry Gross for her NPR program, Fresh AIr. This was very exciting to me. This was extremely exciting to me. This was, in my mind, one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to me! I love Terry Gross. It turned out that Terry Gross’s producer was a big fan of both my books!

I had done all this other press for my book, Outtakes From a Marriage. I had done The View and the Today Show and while I was a little nervous, I was with Denis so I was fine. I had done other radio and TV stuff alone and I had also been fine. Somehow, because I’m such a big Terry Gross fan, I got myself worked up into such a jittering, teeth-grinding state of anxiety that I was rendered partially mute during my interview with Terrry Gross. Mute isn’t the ideal state for an interview. My daughter was with me in the studio and when it was over, I had to ask her what I had even said. I knew it had been awful. Of course, sweet Dev kept saying, “No,Mom, you were fine.”

The Fresh AIr folks were going to tell us when the show was going to air. It didn’t air in June (when it was taped). It didn’t air in July, August, September or October either. Clearly, the interview was not fit for the airwaves and in order to go on, I’ve had to kind of pretend to myself that I never did an interview for Fresh Air at all.

Well, last night, I received an email from my dear book publicist Beau Benton, stating that my Fresh Air interview will air today! They’ve finally “found a spot for it.” The producer was very sweet about how the election and all sorts of other stuff has been a priority these past months. I don’t think I’ll be able to listen, today, as I’ll be driving at the time it airs and I think cringing behind the wheel can cause accidents.

I tried to stay up for the Daily Show</em> to watch Denis last night but fell asleep. Will see if I can watch it online.
Anyway, his book signing in Manhattan last night was a HUGE success.