thanks.

August of 2008 does not seem like that long ago--a few months after I graduated college, living in Greensboro, NC with my pregnant (for the first time) sister, engaged, working at a coffee shop. That was the month I started this blog, and it recently struck me that that was nearly THREE years ago! Time feels suspended, and I don't feel like I have aged at all, much less three years. But I have, and it is real to me most lucidly in the more easy going, less insecure, meeker, hopefully more refined quality of my heart. A wine that has aged a few years is better. If it ages several dozen years and is kept well, it can be exquisite. Hope for the future.

But when I realized that n2sh.blogspot has been around for that long, I was overcome with thankfulness for those that read it. As much as I hate to admit it, much of my courage in writing comes from feedback, rather than self-assurance. Recently, I have been given the gift (perhaps in response for my desperate prayers for SOME KIND OF ENCOURAGEMENT GOOD GRIEF) of a few n2sh readers mentioning that they read this blog. It is irrational the vote of confidence this is, like hearing that someone loves your singing voice after they overhear you in church and you suddenly wonder if you could go somewhere with it. But to know that people visit once, and then return is unbelievable to me! Why?? I don't imagine anyone actually typing the URL into their browser, but I guess you must (Yes, YOU) unless it's a link you have clicked or, I can hardly imagine, is a tab or a favorite (unless you're my sister, because I know she's tabbed me).

Anyway, I wanted to say thanks. Especially recently, hearing through the grapevine, or hearing to my ears, some votes of confidence. I really, really appreciate it.

Tomorrow night I am going to see the author Emily Giffin present at Wake Forest University (of which she is a graduate) on her book series beginning with Something Borrowed. I don't typically read chick lit, but picked up the book at the used bookshop for three bucks. I'm excited because my current book project, Roma Roma, is something that I am VERY excited about, and is a muted form of chick lit. I'm double crossing my fingers that I get to meet her and, more importantly her agent (Theresa Park). Please, please send prayers up for me tomorrow!

just in case you wanted to be inspired...

You should read my sister, Hannah's, blog. She is level-headed, straightforward, honest, tender and bright. She has absolutely the cutest family in the United States of America, and she posts lots of great pictures.

www.hansdigginin.blogspot.com


The latest post is about her new son, William, and the beginning of a 3-year journey to correct a foot problem he was born with. Forrest Gump style...

sweet, sleepy saturday

It is a perfect Saturday. This morning the forecast said rain, but that didn’t happen. It’s gorgeous and windy outside, the kind of day that looks warm from the cozy inside of your house, with the sun creating lovely mirrored reflections on the hoods of cars parked out on the street. There is a muffled buzz created by the lawn manicurist a few doors down, edging the yard of the house with the lime green door that is for sale by owner. He has been out there all day, but I don’t think that sounds terrible on a day like this.

Here, inside, it is quiet but for these sounds: the tick-tock of the grandfather clock that hangs on the wall in the living room, the wind moving the great, heavy branches of the pine tree in the front yard that looks a lot like the Christmas Tree in Who-Ville—the one the Grinch takes down. There is also the sound of wind chimes from my neighbor’s front porch, a sound that I love and I imagine the quiet neighbor also loves, although I rarely see him. There is now the sound of my fingers clicking the white keys of this laptop. It is gloriously quiet, and yet there is this soft symphony of sounds.

I’ve painted my nails, and am reading a book called I Don’t Know How She Does It by Allison Pearson. Two days ago I picked up The Story Of Edgar Sawtelle from Ed McKay’s, the used book store, which was strangely placed on the Free Books shelf. When I asked why, the clerk said it was because they don’t keep hardback copies of books published more than 2 years ago. This book is in mint condition, except for the big black X slashed in sharpee on the paper jacket (which is a kind of sickening, tragic practice in my opinion—give the book away, fine, but don’t slash the hell out of it). This is a book I have had great intentions of reading because it is so highly acclaimed as a work of great and epic fiction, so I opened it nobly. However, I just finished re-reading my favorite book, Steinbeck’s East of Eden, which is, again in my opinion, the greatest novel ever written, but which is also very deep, heavy, and powerful. And long. I realized that I wanted some easy-to-digest, enjoyable literature that made me laugh. So I dropped Edgar in the clean laundry basket, and picked up Person’s novel. I’m loving it, and it’s in the same style as my current project, Roma Roma. Great inspiration, great camaraderie.

Usually I can’t enjoy a day like this—it’s like I’ve got a motor that doesn’t turn off, only idles. But lately I’ve been on the go a lot. Today it feels good to sit here in my little brick house with my big dog and napping husband and read under the windows.