I wish I had exciting outdoor adventures to relay this week but that's not the case! The reason? I went to a book fair and sold some books! Well, technically the publisher sold the books but I sat there and pushed the heck out of them!
This was the first live event I've had since my latest book came out in April of 2020 (oh, the timing on that one). You would think people would have read more during the pandemic, but I haven't found that to be the case. Anyway, I drove fearfully through a large city, donned a mask, and saw more people than I've cumulatively seen in two years.
My exercise time was spent in a creaky hotel gym with equipment well beyond its expiration date. When I asked at the front desk if there was somewhere to walk, they said, "well, you can walk around the parking lot." So the gym, strangely named the Health Club, had to do.
On the way home, the interstate closed, as it does on a regular basis. This time it was a truck on fire. I chatted with another driver, who drives water tenders on wildfires. As I returned home, the snow began. It was quite beautiful but not everyone agreed. In the grocery store, a woman complained into ger phone.
"Jesus! This weather. This is why I never travel. It was supposed to be sunny!"
At home, I geared up for a winter run. Layers, hat, mittens, where were the microspikes, where's the shovel? I encountered Scott, stubbornly trying to mountain bike in several inches of snow. "It's too slippery for my bike," he noted.
Tomorrow I walk across the street for a friendsgiving. Thanksgiving is a deeply problematic holiday if you consider the narrative kids in my age bracket were told in school. But while I hesitate to say Happy Thanksgiving, I hope everyone has one thing to be grateful for.