Things I’ve been liking lately:

A big glass of cold, whole milk when I come home really hungry.

Sandwiches on rolls— stuffed to the brim yet modest; a little fistful of perfection.

Jane Austen! She is a delight to read.

Thinking up what it’ll be like to be in New Orleans after so, so long. (I am flying into NoLa, visiting family and that damp and luminous city itself, then driving from there to Austin). I can’t stop daydreaming about coffee with chicory and trying a fried oyster po’boy. Or about seeing my dad with his big, watery blue eyes, and hugging him and smelling that rich musty smell of tobacco. And seeing my grandma and my uncle. When I think of the former I think of the color pink— just, pink. Pretty and delicate and timeless and gentle. And when I remember the latter, what do I recall but that amazing electric pink apartment above the French Quarter, where he lived with a beautiful girl, once? (He married her within a Mardi Gras parade, once). I am thinking of family, cricket-sound evenings, balmy air, and powder-sugar heaps on fried dough.

And today was the beginning of last days.

Today was my last day at Book Culture. There was generosity of spirit, warmth all around. A fruit tart with a lovely shortbread crust was presented to me, all spotted with berries, looking exactly like something I’d make. And I cut it into tiny slivers with a gigantic knife from the staff kitchen; it made exactly enough for everyone working today to get a piece. And there were hugs aplenty and wondrous smiles.
My last lunch at the bookstore was eaten inside, on a big old leather chair, in a frenzy of early afternoon hunger, stress and sleepy rainy-day low-energy: a tangle of arugula with chopped fresh oregano and savory slips of shaved parmesan, dressed with oil and lemon; a small hunk of pepperoni, two prune plums and two almonds, some crusty baguette, some sharp clothbound cheddar.

Ah! And how could I forget? My friend Joe, of the independent radio station and my endless love and admiration, had me DJ the other night. It was a last days in New York sort of program, with tracks I’ve been listening to lately, at my desk at Book Culture (he’ll upload it soon, and you should all listen to it!). I was so excited and nervous! Joe was as good humored as ever, and I learned by his utterly relaxed direction how to select a single track on a record, how to work a switchboard, the difference between a 33 1/2” and 45”. There I was, flipping through Joe’s record collection and picking out what I’ve been humming along to as secretary-to-the-coursebooks-buyer these last months, daydreaming about what is finally here: a change of scenery, pace, weather.

And here comes the weekend, and Soho, and brunch with Rachel. Then, it’s onward! Tally-ho.