(I’m trying to convince Sophie to water the Earth Box tomatoes while I’m gone but she’s a slacker)
So much for being green, an expression my Spartan friend claims is dubious in any case. It’s true that I could buy every bite I put in my mouth from now until death, imported from Peru, and use less fuel miles. Sigh. But, you know, some of us do what we can do. And then we go to the airport.
It’s sort of an odd summer, with no real vacation planned between Rich and myself, so I’m tagging along to his conference in Washington, D.C., mostly because that is the home of MARY! I’ve had the good fortune to meet a number of my fellow bloggers, including Sparky, the link fairy, who tried to burn down the brickhouse here in Chicago. That was exciting. But Mary has been at the top of my list since the beginning. We were casting out Starter People at about the same time and then we had hysterectomies on almost the same day. Right there, you have the misery loves company part but it’s a lot more than that. I want to meet Mary because, unless we’ve all been seriously duped, she’s one of those people I would call exceptionally normal. At moments, humorously distressed. Displaying remarkable patience in a cranky sort of way. Generous, caring and self-sacrificing with only the occasional catty snippet. Rock solid even when she’s crumbling at the brink. Her exceptional writing is a common phenomenon. This is really true. It’s some of the smartest writing around and yet, when you check it for reading level, it comes out as elementary school level. This is probably linked to the fact that she is a guardian of young minds, a purveyor of knowledge, the answer to curiosity- a primary school teacher. My heroes!
Anyway, I will finally have the opportunity to meet the divine Miz M tomorrow and I’m all nervous about it because really, I’m quite shy. Plus, I’m older and lumpier. (She doesn’t know it yet, but when a person turns fifty-five, which she hasn’t, the surface of your body becomes like a mini movie set for Tremors. Your flesh starts to ripple and there are barely discernible small mounds that appear in odd places. And they migrate around. I digress.) If Mary didn’t live there, I probably wouldn’t go to the nation’s capitol over the 4th of July. I’m not big on heat, crowds or big cities. Rich will be in meetings, more or less, although we’ll probably get some free dinners and hotel soap and, at night, when I’m not with Mary and he’s not in meetings we can be in a nice (did I mention free) hotel room together. And there will be fireworks.
Now I’m excited. I have to go pack and try to figure out how to get out of going to a Taste of Chicago this afternoon. My lovely young niece has moved to town for her first real job (okay. I can tell you because we are bizarrely related in a way no drug selling, weapons stock piling gangster could ever connect: she looks exactly like a 23 year old blond model, but she’s a high level federal agent, packing a glock. She has body armor in her car. Weird, huh? ). She’s still acting a bit like a happy tourist and would like to go down to that mad house. The Taste, in my opinion, is Grant Park packed with people and a million points of salmonella. Bacino’s Pizza, around the corner here, has a giant truck parked out front and they load it up with 7.00 pizzas and drive them down to the park to sit in the sun for a couple hours before they sell them for 15.00. The owner told us he would sell 17,000 pizzas over the next few days. We have the best sushi place in town half a block away; they’re taking their maki rolls down there to steam in the sun as well. It’s supposed to thunderstorm this afternoon so I may be able to talk her into a manicure at Bien Sortie and a Bacino’s pizza here.
I do believe I’ll take my camera along on this trip to Washington. You all want to see Miz Mary, right? Check in for an update and have a great 4th of July. Try not to blow off your fingers.