This time of year is also, always, about how against all humanly odds, there was enough oil to keep the Menorah lit after the temple in Jerusalem was sacked. And how–well, you know the pitch: let there be light, and let it begin with me; i.e. the fourth great prayer, Help me not be such an asshat, just for the next day or so.
—Anne Lamott (from her Facebook page)
I’m looking forward to reading Anne Lamott’s newest book, Help, Thanks, Wow, which is now number 2 on the NY Times Hardcover Advice & Misc. bestseller list, 1 below Ina Garten, 3 above the Smitten Kitchen cookbook (4 weeks and counting, good for her!), 6 above Huckabee’s book, 7 above Deepak Chopra and about 9 above I Could Pee On This, but I have trouble counting properly. While I wait for the book to arrive (via Amazon, as usual, as all the bookstores in our vicinity have closed and the Topanga Canyon Barnes & Noble is too far away, displays way too many tempting toys—distracting certain 5 year olds mommies would rather have looking at books, not toys, not toys in a bookstore, no, no—and, although the kid’s reading nook is lovely, is consistently the mommy-will-scream-shortly sort of crowded most of the time, which is good news for B&N, but maybe not mommies not on solo outings, oh let’s face it–I’m addicted to Amazon), I enjoy Anne Lamott’s Facebook posts, which are long-ish, self-effacing, witty and fun to read. Also, in the meantime, I continue inching my way through The Known World, inching as I’m a wuss–anytime a child is mentioned my eyes flit ahead, scanning for tragedy. If I detect none, I carry on–but I’m not always correct in my assumptions. Story of my life. And, in the meantime, revising, revising, revising. And exercising my a** away before Christmas. I did just write that, but only because it’s late for a mommy recovering from staying out too late on a Saturday night (i.e. past 9 p.m.), something that almost never happens. Hence the fatigue. And my burgeoning a**, tempting, scrumptious bites and bite-sized creampuffs constantly put before me last night—until I ate them and went back for more edible delights, putting them before me, and so on…
Yours in good nighttime reading and cream puffs (preferably reading with creampuffs on a pretty blue china plate next to you on the bed—not on the nightstand, but right next to you, not on the comforter, but on the sheet, so close the plate pushes into your side),