Bits

Sunday was Chris' 33rd birthday. We went out for Italian at a restaurant that in March my father, step-mother and sister all claimed watered down their wine.

We didn't order wine so it was OK.

This didn't happen at the restaurant last night, but more and more often hosts/hostesses try to give us a children's menu for Gideon. I say "no thank you" and then they try to push it, try to make me feel bad for depriving him of his hot dog or chicken fingers, so I point out "He doesn't have any teeth." Usually that's enough for them to drop it, but not Saturday. They brought him out his own plate for the potato skin appetizer.

Three weeks ago at the grocery store I bought Gideon's first "solid" food -- baby jars of peaches, carrots, bananas, that sort of thing. The cashier told me I shouldn't waste my money on that stuff, just give him mashed potatos, it's cheaper.

I'm writing a blurb for Joe Massey's next chapbook. Well, I will write the blurb. I haven't started writing it yet.

I have a stack of permission contracts for the Bedside Guide that I need to go through. There's at least two people who still owe me contracts, but they've contacted me. I imagine there will be a few others once I go down the list. I'm not fond of these administrative duties for projects, but they're necessary.

I have three manuscripts I need to print out so I can read at the beach next week. One of them is the famous Wintered that I keep hearing so many good things about. The other two I've had since April and May.

I have a pile of French puppets I need to attend.