A Book from the Blue

Gainesville

An unexpected book arrived in the mail today. It was addressed to Bill and me, from Eddie Muller ("EJ" to me). He doesn't usually send me his books, though I buy and read them as soon as I learn about them. This one was obviously different. Just Visiting: The Collected Writings of Erik Sinclair McMahon. E wrote the introduction, and when I saw that the address of the publisher, "Saint Francis Studio," I recognized it as E's home in Alameda. It is a very professional-looking hard bound book.

Seems McMahon was a close friend of E's who died two years ago at age 49. He left behind a lot of writing, short memoir-type pieces and poems, which are gathered here. I read a few at random, then started at the beginning and got hooked. It is very much the kind of writing I do, or would do, if I weren't so terminally lazy-- but much more polished and just much better in general. Looking forward to reading the rest of it. LoTR can wait (at Helm's Deep) until I'm done.

Did load of darks (including pre-wear wash of the new black NYDJ's) and a load of towels. Swiffered the floors. A decent showing for a Monday.

We had another thunderstorm with rain in the late PM, much to the cat's annoyance. Not as much rain as yesterday, but measurable. The cat ran and hid after a particularly loud boom. Glad to hear you are taking refuge less often in your shelter, Mom. Save that for when YOU can tell things are bad outside, not whenever the radio or sirens give their overly cautious, wide-spread warnings.

Made something totally weird, even by my standards, for dinner: A saute involving zucchini, garlic, cooked shrimp, pine nuts, raisins, and capers. It was amazingly wonderful-- who could imagine those things would go together so splendidly? We all loved it. Had sliced Compari tomatoes and the rest of the fresh mozzerella with some olive oil and basil leaves. Plus leftover sushi.

Back to da Book.