Whew, that was some weekend.
Friday night we went shopping for supplies, the nature of which will be revealed later. Some assembly was required, but mostly took place feverishly on Saturday morning. Then we took a morning trip to pick up a Codeword and go to a lesson for Codeword.
Saturday night was spent in the most excellent company of Erin and Jason, who came to town for Sarah Vowell’s reading as part of the Women Writer’s Conference. The great thing about the Women Writer’s Conference being that most of the really good events are free and open to the public, so you don’t have to shell out 200 bucks, dress like a frump and talk about how great Natalie Goldberg and The Artist’s Way are for a weekend to reap its benefits. Hey, I’m just saying.
Vowell was fantabulously terrific, as we knew she would be. She was charming and acid and funny as hell. The Q&A was one of the most bizarre, painful things I’ve ever witnessed — hello, organizers, you have to have a mic before you can take it away when someone goes crazy. Since there was no mic and no screening of said questions, things got a bit out of hand. Let me just characterize it thus: I think if Tod Goldberg had been there, his head would have exploded from the sheer quantity of f*cktarditude on display. An older woman in a giant purple muumuu could not get it through her lead-dense skull that the presidential inauguration is OPEN TO THE PUBLIC. She more or less accused Vowell of being a liar for saying she hadn’t needed an invitation to attend. She did it over and over again. Before moving on later to ask something about hair plugs.
I kid you not. And that’s not even dealing with the girl who asked a question about her "favorite story by you" only it wasn’t by Vowell at all. As I said, Vowell was great at dealing with these, but it was still torture to observe; I at least hope she got a good anecdote out of it. She even very classily agreed to stay and do a signing afterward and was very amiable and chit-chatty with the folks in the signing line. Then we waited and waited for a table for dinner, over which we dissected Top Chef and gossipped about philandering poets.
Yesterday, I finally got to meet Jack Womack, his wife Valeria Susanina and their lovely daughter Lily, who were in town visiting family. They were having rental car issues, so we drove over to Jack’s mother’s place to hang out for a bit. All three were exceedingly charming and Christopher inadvertently kicked Lily in the head. She eventually sort of forgave him (after being promised chocolate ice cream) and promptly fell asleep.
Then we came home and took Codeword, aka the newest member of our family, for a long walk. She likes walks, she does. Meet Miss Emma, the amazing basset/golden retriever mix.