Honour Your Inner Magpie
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Thursday, October 5th, 2006
| Time |
Event |
| 10:11a |
thoughts, today (There's the temptation to use LJ-cut; odd. Wonder where that came from. Huh.)
The plate I put my breakfast on was ceramic, oatmeal colored, with a latticework of dark red brushstrokes all over it. I got that plate once at some restaurant that had been giving away the end of their holiday plate stock -- they weren't going to carry any such things any more, or something. We had just come from a movie theatre, we being Mike and me and I think Victor and Lynn and some other folks, most likely Michael and Jean. Can't recall what we saw, except that it was scientifictional.
My breakfast is an assortment of the good things people have brought over or sent. (Thank you all so, so much. I never really understood exactly how little brainpower one has in this state, but now the ready-to-go food makes so much sense, and is such a kindness.)
My tasks today include making another try at socks, dropping some more information off at the Friends of the Minneapolis Public Library office, and getting some more paper so I can finish printing some things that need to come with me to Viable Paradise.
It is a comfort, having work to do. And it is a strange comfort to be looking forward to being in a place for a little while where I didn't walk every sidewalk a thousand times holding hands with Mike. I don't think we ever walked anywhere together without holding hands, unless our arms were full of something. And even then, we managed to, most of the time. Thirteen years of holding hands. People used to ask us all the time if we were newlyweds. Mike took to saying, with one particular smile, "More or less."
I'm sad, but also I am warmed by the good. We had a really, really good time.
OH! Must find that Feynman quote, which says pretty much that. I promised Mike I would remember it, when this day came. (We read Feynman's autobiography to each other, and it carried particular meaning for us.) Will have to buy book or something, since the copy we read from is with his stuff, wherever in the world that is now. (Some of my socks are keeping it company, I am sure.)
OK. Onward. | | 10:28a |
book endowment note I forgot to say: the nice people at the Friends of the Minneapolis Public Library told me yesterday that they had more than three thousand dollars in individual donations to the John M. Ford Book Endowment fund. That's not counting what papersky and Scalzi have raised so far. The Friends are just blown away by this, and so happy. They told me yesterday, "Donations are coming in from all over the world!" I just grinned. Makes sense to me. Mike had friends everywhere, and his work got around. And something about donations that will supply library books in perpetuity is so right, and so Mike-like. (We've been saying, "That's such a Mike thing" a lot, lately. And it is.) Oddly comforting thought: For years after Dr. John Brantner died, I kept thinking I saw him out of the corner of my eye, whenever I was in the library. I just remembered that, and then had a moment's imagining of Brantner and Mike standing in the new library atrium and talking. I always wanted to introduce those two to each other, but John Brantner was gone by the time Mike and I got very close. I like the thought of them talking, in some kind of afterlife-y library. (Which also reminds me: I once asked Mike what he thought he'd be doing in an afterlife. He said they would probably put him in the Design section, over by P.K. Dick.) | | 11:35p |
of afternoons and evenings and books and hugs Went out this afternoon, and did in fact achieve socks, in between stopping in at the Friends of the Minneapolis Public Library office and going off to have a bite to eat before Neil's reading and signing. So I now have three new pairs of sensible black socks, one pair of silly very green very fuzzy socks for lolling about in a writerly way, and some brown opaque tights. This is handy, because the black tights/brown shoes thing is not my favorite fashion mode, and I'm down to one pair of leather shoes, and they're brown. Got one pair of bluejeans -- the other ones are at Mike's. Were at Mike's. God knows where they are now.
But anyhow, achieved socks. Also had a nice talk with the Friends folks, and Linda gave me a tour of the auditorium, which is pretty cool. There is the possibility of doing something there next April, around about the time that we would have been celebrating Mike's 50th birthday. (Yes, I confess that my own personal agenda in doing something then is that I would very much like to spend that day in company with a bunch of people who care a lot about Mike and his work.) We shall see what we can put together. Maybe we'll sponsor some reading lamps in his name. (I forget whose idea that was, but it's a very good one.)
Went from the haunts of socks over to the train -- light rail, yes -- rode up to Lake Street, and walked from there over to the Floating World cafe for some comfort sushi before going over to the Riverview for Neil's reading and stuff. Comfort sushi was both good and melancholy; the sushi itself was good with no melancholy at all. It's just that so many times I've been in that restaurant with Mike and Neil and a few other folks. Today I went there with a copy of HEAT OF FUSION AND OTHER STORIES for company, and read things by Mike, and you know what? It really is like having part of him still here... or maybe it's more like hearing his voice on a time-delay, like a really, really long telephone connection.
Came to the line "Time is the best gift," and almost dissolved, but managed to maintain Scandosotan calm. Appreciated the walk to the Riverview, though, as there was time to compose myself.
The reading was very fine, and great fun, and I got a good big Neil hug afterwards -- it's been so comforting to know how many people care about Mike. And although I was trepidatious about seeing a vast herd of people when I might go all weepy, it was fine. I'm glad I went, on every account.
And now I have come home, courtesy of a very helpful Mr. A. and daughter, and watched Colbert with the Juan, who went into howls of delight at some of it, and now I have come down here and typed this to you.
I think life is edging towards linear time again. At least now and then. |
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