{Standing} in the Children’s Section of Politics and Prose, the greatest bookstore in Washington DC. You can see Hadley and Harper’s feet in the picture. They found a little reading nook. No, not an e-reader. Something much more romantic than that. A lovely corner in the bookstore with pillows and books and stuffed animals.
{Thinking} about the times I used to walk over here from our little apartment down the street. When we first moved to DC, I’d tell myself, “just open and organize four more boxes and then you can go to Politics and Prose.” I loved walking up Connecticut, looking around the bookstore, getting a cup of coffee at the cafe and wondering what it was I would do next with my life. I remember thinking, “Maybe I’ll start one of those weblog thingys.”
{Listening} to Sufjan Stevens overhead. The first time I walked into Politics and Prose Elliot Smith was playing. I remember that the cafe was quiet and it seemed people were doing seriously creative things hunched over their notebooks and books. You can’t find that kind of creative quiet in Starbucks, I don’t think. The place has the same vibe today, which is why I think Sufjan Stevens serenades the airwaves.
{Wondering} if we will live in the city – in a city – again someday. I hope so. I love cities.
{Realizing} that most of my “Right Now” posts have me holding a cup of coffee in them.
Five Years Ago: Enjoying an excellent visit from our great friends from Calvin. Harper’s in there too, behind my yellow maternity tank top.
Four Years Ago: Talking about being sick. Funny, I can’t remember being sick back then. Glad I wrote about it.
Three Years Ago: Talking about the 50th anniversary of To Kill A Mockingbird and my girls’ names. An aside that might only be interesting to writers – I was surprised to see that part of an essay that got published last year got its start from this blog post. It’s pretty neat for me to see how an idea germinates. It’s also a good lesson in having faith in the exercise of writing an event down without concern of what will happen to it. Just tell the story, you guys. You can always go back to it later, yes?
Two Years Ago: With a title like, “My Kind of Town,” you know what I’m talking about.
One Year Ago: It’s good to go back and see that yes, it is hot during this time of year. I seem to forget when sweat is running down my eyelids.
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