Further Miracles

As I wrote of the Gerber daisies, giving us a sign that all things are possible that we didn't think were, since they stood straight up, never bending or drooping all that week, I must tell you now that the miracle continues, three week-fold. They still have their heads high, and I compliment them daily, as human beings may not be the only things that need affirmation and praise.
But it certainly doesn't hurt us. I have had the great good fortune to have my once and future editor, Bob Gutwillig, who edited The Pretenders, on my case lo these many semi-uncommunicative weeks, supporting me as I stumbled toward the finish line on the novel I am writing. I have 72, 507 words but who's counting. So I am within sight of my goal on the eve of my birthday-- Thursday, no gifts or flowers but please send me wishes as I'm not sure all of you have transferred to gmail, and my early morning messages are strangely silent, The New York Times, Peace and Social Justice,Moveon.org, and the Democratic party having been trapped in Earthlink, which as you probably know has been outsourced to India, so we may never hear from any of them again.
I have hardly been out of my apartment which I love, both the apartment and hardly being out of it, I am having such a good time writing this novel and hope all of you will, too,reading it-- will tell you the title and what happens to it when I'm finished-- but have been a few times to the Barrington dog park with Mimi, who still hasn't interacted much with the other dogs, though a corgy named Blaze fell in love with her and she had to be rescued. A trainer of a pack of huge dogs-- he walks about 13 of them and they swirl around him like fish-- said it is very like a little girl's first day at school, that she has to get to know the other kids before she will be comfortable letting go of Mama.
The jacaranda are finally in bloom along my street-- it has been unusually cold this April May, coldest since the '50s, so the fiends who run this home owners association won't turn on the heater in the pool, and I have had to drive a distance to a friend's house to swim these past mornings, as it does clear my head. Hope her gas bill doesn't kill her. I would rather it killed the board of this building, where I am not even allowed to speak at board meetings as I am not an owner-- I was told I could go but not speak. Still these are not really hardships-- I am lucky I have a friend who turned on her heater, I am lucky I can swim, I am lucky I can breathe, I am lucky to be alive,especially now as I near the finale of the book. I am nervous about even writing this, nervous about flying, nervous about doing anything to break the rhythm, nervous about this fucking administration, but otherwise life is good. My Jewru Jack is working in east Marin with the Dalai Lama on prison meditation and gave me the good news that Al Gore is alive and well up there and, more important, not a stiff, that he is apparently at last at ease and funny as he travels around with his Green documentary, so we do have someone to think about that we can like, and Jack said as he already won the presidential election once, maybe he can win it again. My friend George-Anne said not even to think about that, that we have to unseat people in the congressional election so we can impeach this jerk, but my doctor Keith said that would be the waste of a year, as it was with Clinton, and people would throw the government's not moving ahead back on the Democrats. He also said the war is the least of it-- the true sins of this administration are the killing of the middle class, the collusion between the government and oil interests, the collusion between them and the drug companies so that Plan D kills the old people on Medicare. He thinks they should stop Saddam's trial, put him back in power so that all those over there who want to kill each other can, and he will take care of Iran and find bin Laden. It was an interesting lunch.
Ahead lies an interesting dinner, and a journey to New York next week. And as it the season of jacaranda, when I usually wrote a novel when we were living in Beverly Hills, all signs are encouraging. On top of which I have baby-sat twice for my little grandboys, my son is acting almost like a human being, so all is surprisingly well. Now if we can just get rid of these dangerous morons. Love to you all,and Hi there, NSA!