With apologies to Paul Simon:

Saturday, it was my birthday.
I hung one more year on the line.
You don’t have to guess;
I’m proud to confess:
I’m fifty-nine.

dalemobile I got up at 6–yes, in the A.M.–and drove to the home of fellow Southern Indiana Writers Group member T. Lee Harris. Friend Dale had loaded books in the back of the Dalemobile. We three piled in on top of them and Dale drove us to the Indianapolis library, where we met fellow member Joanna Foreman, who brought copies of her book GHOSTS OF INTERSTATE 65. The Indy library was having an authors’ awards celebration, including a book fair featuring Indiana authors. We had one and a half tables between the three of us.

Here is a picture of the SIW table, being manned by adjunct member Cal A. Vera, a seasonal writer. We met some terrific people and heard great stories. Gave away a lot of information on self-publishing, forming and maintaining a critique group and on our 15 titles.

After the signing, T and Dale and I went to the Children’s Museum to see the Tut exhibit. When I got home, Charlie asked me, “How was Tut?” I said, “Dead. Still dead.” Howard Carter was right, though–we saw wonderful things. What blew me away wasn’t the gold, it was the wood. To be standing in front of a chair that was made 5000 years ago and looked like something out of 1932, only carved with hieroglyphs rather than birds and maple leaves…that was just stunning. The shabtis (ushabtis, shawabtis)–the little guys who were put into the tombs to do the pharaoh’s grunt work in the afterlife, were so different and so beautiful. And the alabaster–a stone that picks up light and glows with it as if the light were within it– Everything made from alabaster looked like it was fashioned from a dream of the full moon. Gorgeous. I think I have a crush on Amenhotep IV. There was a big statue of him, and he was a looker.

Then we had supper at a Chinese buffet, then we went back to T’s, then I drove home, then the clouds burst and we had a downpour, but I was snug at home. Good day.

Sunday, Mom came to church with me because we left from there and drove to Louisville. We had lunch at J. Graham’s (pretty good food, pretty good price, outrageous surcharges, never going there not never no more). Then we saw La Traviata. That needs a post of its own.


writing prompt: If you could do anything on your birthday that you wanted to, what would it be?