I love reading my writing to other people. I often wish I was a painter. I’m not. But when I read a piece that I really love I feel like one. That was true last night when I read two pieces at the Red Oak Writers Showcase. Each word felt like a strawberry that I’d just dipped in melted chocolate. It was lovely.
My husband’s fashion advice to me is to wear jeans. Oddly, and perhaps we spend an inordinate amount of time together, the topic of what I would wear to the Writers Showcase came up. I told him I pretty much only have one pair of dress pants since my business career is long gone and he said, “You should wear jeans. You need to be cool.” So, of course, I did, my skinny jeans being my preferred attire nearly every day and then, for good measure, I ordered a pair in black along with a new pair of black ankle boots to carry the coolness forward.
I wore a schmatta to the reading. After I was dressed for the Showcase with my jeans, black T, and drapey print thing, but before I’d put back my hearing aids and implant receiver (I am so mechanical and complex), my husband mouthed the words (which took me several minutes to discern), “That’s the schmatta you bought at Goodwill. I remember things.” We laughed, he said he was kidding but his face said otherwise, and then I said, “I don’t care. I’m wearing the schmatta to the Showcase!” And I did.
A government meeting which I dreaded but was totally prepared for was unexpectedly postponed for a month. There still seems to be a contingent who wants to call us to account for giving tents to homeless people, so, we have been getting our various, multi-colored, and wandering ducks in a row so we can attest to our intentions, competence, and results. We were super ready but, at the last minute, the plug was pulled, which is fine with me because I have the black skinny jeans and ankle boots on order.
There is hope. The election gives me hope. In Wisconsin, we re-elected a Democratic governor who keeps his veto pen in his shirt pocket. He is the firewall between a Republican legislature devoted to a law passed in 1849 outlawing abortion and the will of the people. I was damaged by anti-abortion laws. I’ve sworn to stop talking about it, but the damage was real and long-lasting, though, as they say, I went on to live a long and good life. That I have a governor that knows all this without knowing it is a great comfort to me. And a hopeful thing as well. No one should have this burden in the future – that’s the goal.