Didn’t leave the parcela yesterday. Woke up early and dove into my novel. I’ve had some breakthroughs here and it seems finally to be falling into place, after two years of stops and starts. This thing of having an agent a-waiting has been sort of crippling. I don’t this is the book he’s wanting, but it’s the book I’m needing to write. And it might be crap! I have so little perspective on it. It’s so full of lists.
Gord and Sue were in Santiago and the main house was locked up. I had a bit of bread and cheese on hand and a bag of raw almonds. I wrote in the “workshop room” — which was strange, because I was aware of Merle, Frank, Barbara, Eileen, and Sue all in their regular seats around me, even though the chairs are no longer even there, let alone the people.
Then out to the poolside, where I felt incredibly decadent. Lots of grillos in the pool, and a couple of big spiders on the pool floor. How come I’m less freaked out by big bugs here in Chile than I am at home? Around noon, Alejandra came from next door (the farmhand’s family house), carrying a big plate of lunch for me. Man, I was surprised and it made her laugh. I had the biggest heap of mashed potatoes imaginable, a fried egg, some sliced tomatoes and sliced cucumbers. It was delicious. And so nice of Sue to arrange for.
I joined the grillos and spiders in the pool later in the afternoon, and then Sue got back from Santiago and invited the children from the aforementioned house to come for a swim. It was pretty fun, and then we all had tea and manjar cake afterwards.
As the sun was setting, I went for a walk on the parcela and stood and watched the cows for a long while. The cows watched me (as one of them is probably writing right now on some bovine blog).
Received an incredible email from debby in Missoula this morning: she recounted, in spectacular detail, her first day of classes with Bill Knott. It’s weird to think I now have a friend who knows Bill Knott. There are only three students in the class. It sounds insane, and pretty cool.
The sun is just rising now. It’s a relatively quiet morning: just a few hundred birds complaining and several thousand grillos clicking. Lucho is presumably out milking the cows, and they’re telling him about the weird guy who came and stared at them last night.
Over and out.
has stu gone soft and mellow in chile? he sure sounds content. it's almost unnerving. don't know why, but i like it. it sounds good on him. he wears it well. but just wait until he gets back to toronto. heads will roll and the old stu edge will return. meanwhile, i'm all over those carrot pomes, great novel expectations and poolside mashed potatoes. good on you stu. love the interior and exterior travelogue. wish i was there.
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