Okay, I moved a lot as a child, and as a result, I have a tremendous amount of anxiety about not fitting in, or being considered a “newby” of any kind. SO, even joining a social group that doesn’t exist in real life makes me a little crazy.
Ann Leary, author of The Good House
Author of The Good House
Okay, I moved a lot as a child, and as a result, I have a tremendous amount of anxiety about not fitting in, or being considered a “newby” of any kind. SO, even joining a social group that doesn’t exist in real life makes me a little crazy.
If any of you are touring college campuses this summer, with your “rising seniors” (love that term, it makes them sound so rebellious), please allow me to offer some helpful suggestions:
Ylenia just sent an uplifting report from Abruzzo. It’s posted in yesterday’s comments.
Yesterday, Denis’s mother, his two sisters and their families came to our house for Easter dinner. Denis’s mother Nora, about whom I plan to dedicate an entire blog page soon, is recovering from a knee replacement, which has barely slowed her down. She’s incredibly energetic and vivacious and really just had the surgery, but came bustling in with her cane, barely limping.
Last night we attended a New York screening of Marley and Me, to which dogs were invited (they were allowed to bring their owners as well). There was a red carpet and all the dogs had their photos taken. Here we are with Daphne, who was, by far, the most well behaved dog at the event. She really was shocked at the behavior of some of the other dogs. In the photo, she is looking at the antics of the dog who played Marley, who was just off camera. The Marley dog had been trained to act a little wild and bark at people and Daphne was absolutely mortified. She posed politely for the cameras, then slept on the floor at my feet during the whole film.
Maybe some of you will recall that I have a weekly NPR radio show called IN HOUSE. The show was on hiatus for a while because I had surgery and then really needed some time to work on my book. Well, tomorrow WHDD-FM, (robinhoodradio.com), will broadcast a brand new episode of IN HOUSE, featuring author and NPR commentator Heather King.

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.


Okay, I don’t know how to download the video so you can watch it, but here’s a still of me seated in the gutter outside the FX Emmy after party last night, ala Lindsay Lohan. And I don’t even drink. I really don’t get out much clearly. Heels, long dress, curb, paparazzi are too much for me to deal with at one time. SO embarrassing. Anyway, that’s how my night ended.
Here’s how it began: We got all dressed up and the makeup artist took this photo. Within an hour all that makeup would be dripping down my face in rivulets of sweat.
It’s 9:30 on the morning of the Emmy Awards, and already the day has been a huge success. First, it’s overcast. Honestly, that clear, sunny sky grinning maniacally at you each morning gets a little tiresome. I’m a New Englander and need a little gloom to make me feel great. I felt so great that I managed to beat Denis at tennis, something I rarely am able to do any more. I didn’t just beat him. I squashed him.
As I mentioned yesterday, we’re staying at this beautiful hotel right on the beach. What I chose not to tell you is that we are staying on a floor that is undergoing construction. In fact, our suite is the only one not under construction on this floor. The door to the right is our room.
The stairs and elevator are on the part of the floor that is closed off and covered with tarps and equipment. Yesterday, when the lovely hostess brought us up here, she led us through many long halls and then through a door that said “Staff Only.” She asked us how our trip was and made other polite small talk, but never explained why we had passed the lobby and elevators and were now walking in a dark hall lined with towering boxes of hotel shampoo.
We’re going to the Emmys this weekend. Here’s the thing: I want to conceal a small digital video recorder somewhere on my body and record the scene on the red carpet. Because you really can’t get a sense of it if you’re not there, walking along amidst the shoving publicists and the screaming fans. One minute somebody’s stepping on your dress, and the next minute you’re face to face with the most distorted and inflated pair of lips you have ever seen.
Copyright © 2013 Ann Leary