This was a sign on the wall near a cliff Jessica and I visited during our European adventures. Note that it is a very graphic representation of what could happen if you step too near the edge. Note that I disregarded the sign even after I took a picture of it. In other words, I can’t say I didn’t see the sign.
There’s a story behind the sign. Oh, yes, indeed. And! You will have a chance to read the story once I get finished writing the book it’s in.
I came back from Europe with a suitcase full of notes. At first I wasn’t sure what they would turn into—a podcast, a photo essay, a bonfire—and then, of course, after I fooled around at it for months, it turned into a book. I have no idea why I thought it would be anything else.
Well, I do know why. I thought perhaps I was done being a writer. It’s been a good run and I kind of wanted to do something else, preferably involving wine and Greek sailors. But alas. It turns out that my great adventure has not freed me to become a runway model or deep-sea fisherperson. It has in fact made me more deeply committed to the process of writing, which was not at all what I was expecting. I am tempted to ask for my money back, if only I could figure out where to register the complaint.
The book, The Improbable Adventures of a Middle-Aged Woman, is nearly complete. I am planning on a May 1 release date, so scribble that down on your calendar. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll wonder what I was smoking (nothing, I swear).
In the meantime, Jessica has returned to the art of making glass. I have not yet updated her website (I have been busy experiencing personal growth) but I promise I shall get to it soon. She is working on some quite lovely glass casting which is a finicky and time-consuming process and just watching it drives me to drink, but she adores it. Casting means she can make jewelry more easily, if by easily we mean through a nitpicky and agonizing series of steps, but I don’t mind. Really. It means she can make things for people who prefer not to own large glass objects that four-year-olds can use as weapons. (Do not ask me how I found out about the four-year-olds.)
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