Sunday, November 4, 2012.
Hunger Day.
The leaves are coming down in large swirls now, and the lawn--grown enough to make me contemplate mowing one more time--is covered with a collection of red, yellow, and brown spots.
Spent most of the day getting ready for Thanksgiving--at least as regards the website. Mary Ann went out and sold lots of sponsors, and now I must make up the ads. That reaches back to one of my oldest professional skills. My first full-time job at the deceased weekly newspaper Figaro, in the 1970s, was writing and designing ads, about two dozen a week. I can still do that in my sleep.
Mary Ann has begun excavating the closet, in preparation for the possibility that Jude's girlfriend might come to New Orleans for Christmas. How is it that such a little room contained enough stuff to fill the entire bedroom and spill over into the bathroom? The challenge will bi figuring out what to throw away. The kids' baby clothes make up a large percentage. It will not be easy for MA to part with that. Nor is it a sure thing that she will.
Neither of the Marys wanted to go anywhere, so I made this a hunger day, in which I make friends with that gnawing feeling.
