I’m committing to writing on this blog a few times a week for the summer.  After that, we’ll see.  I have been writing a lot, but since I’m trying to publish, I don’t post, because blogging counts as published in many cases.

Gee, what’s been happening the last two years?

Well, the pandemic.  Perhaps you’ve heard.

And two years ago my husband and I separated.  Now we get along pretty well.  Not trying to make the marriage work.

My dog Weezy died in June 2021, and a month later I got my sweet Callie.  Weezy was a difficult, bitey, neurotic dog who somehow wormed her way into my heart, and she was my main companion in the early pandemic.  Her need for daily walks kept me sane and busy, as I taught from home and saw few people, like so many of us.

Callie is the sweetest dog ever.  I do credit Weezy for making me into a dog person, though.

My daughters are grown and flown.  Liza graduated from Wesleyan this May.  I’m impressed with her, and with my own students, for persevering during the pandemic and getting their degrees.

Almost a year ago I met my sweetie, Bob.  We are going on our own writing retreat to a lake in Vermont for five days next week.

I think about retirement.

I have two grandnieces and a grandnephew.  And two sisters who are grandmothers!

I have trouble believing I am 63.  I have had trouble believing my age since I turned 50.  But I stepped in a hole and sprained my ankle a week and a half ago, only mildly, thank goodness.  I had started running last August, and had to take a week off.  Back to it, and then I fell again a few days ago in Manhattan, tripped on a lip of asphalt on a traffic hump.  Just a few scrapes.  But I need to take care of these old bones!  Falling twice in the space of a week and a half, with friends and strangers hovering over me asking if I was okay, is something I want to be careful to avoid!

I feel connected to lots of people from so many areas of my life through Facebook, and yet also feel isolated at times.  A paradox.

Here are photos of me and Callie, and one of silly nervous Weezy, a few months before cancer took her.  More soon.