Notepad; Yes to Shakespeare, No to Fairies, Yes to Silence

 I worked my way through another legal pad.

I think in writing.  I jot down my guesses for Wordle or Connections, titles of books to add to my reading list, random recipes, and the ongoing "things to do" lists.

A decade or so ago Bob managed to liberate a big stack of legal pads from somewhere.  We used to have them scattered around, so many have been partially used, but sometime in the last five years I gathered them into a stack so I can grab a new one when I finish scrawling one up.

This one got me for a moment.  The first couple of pages had been used for a rather elaborate and involved "things to do" list:  The list of things that had to be done before our three-month trip to Gainesville for Bob's transplant, and the packing list.  When I was writing that, I still had hope, confidence even.  Sigh.

The local library hosted "an evening with William Shakespeare" so I went to that.  There was a bigger turnout than usual for things that I attend - two mothers and two children.  But the actor was good, in full garb, and talked (to the two boys, of course) about the times that Shakespeare lived in.  I think he lost them a little when he told them that they probably knew the story of Hamlet.  He was dropping clues like "Scar" "Mufasa" "Simba"  and "lions."  Alas- time moves on.  The Lion King came out 6 years ago, and these kids were 9 years old.

Saturday there was a summer solstice fairy festival.  There were going to be food trucks, costumes were encouraged, vendors, drumming, dancing, a labyrinth . . .   It sounded like my kind of thing, and I pondered getting dressed up, getting my dragon, and going.  But reality set in.  It's late June, and this gathering was in the afternoon (going on to have fire dancing that night - but I don't like driving after dark).  So guaranteed to be close to 100 degrees, and humid, with a good chance of rain.  I took a pass - hopefully they'll do a winter solstice one.  [side note: the host took videos of the event.  The performances looked good, but I noticed that attendance was quite low - I'm not the only one who doesn't frolic when it's triple digit temperatures]

Sunday was the Silent Book Club, which is so oddly enjoyable.  Someone was talking about an earlier meeting (there is an evening meeting each month as well as the Sunday morning one) that was held in a different venue.  When they told the manager that people were coming to a book club meeting, they were asked how many tables they would like to have pushed together, and he was a bit confused when they said not to bother because they wouldn't be talking to each other anyway.

There is some chatting before and after, and one of my table mates said that he recently had been reading a book about how to write.  I asked him which one, and he brought up "Making Shapely Fiction" by Jerome Stern.  I think he was startled when I gasped, put my hand to my mouth, and said Oh My God, Jerry!   Jerry was on faculty in the English Department when I worked there, and, to quote Shakespeare, a man of infinite jest.  I have my copy of the book, which is inscribed "To Ann Durham, who did the undoable and fended off the undefendable and gave me time to write this."  Which is now very poignant, because he died just a few years later.

One fond memory of Jerry was a time when I was at the front desk, and though I can't remember why, was being very annoyed (possibly had just been dealing with someone, which I did a lot).  He asked what was wrong, and I answered "nothing really - I'm just in a justifiable snit."  He looked at me with big eyes, and said {insert the rhythm from "Yellow Brick Road" here} "A Justifiable Snit?"  To which I answered "A Justifiable Snit!" At which we linked arms, and did a little soft shoe to "A Justifi, A Justifi, A Justifiable Snit!"  After which he did the Eqyptian walk out the door chanting "I'm leaving in a huff, I'm leaving in a huff."

Good times.