“How’s your soul?” my son Samsun asked me.

I had phoned him spontaneously on a Thursday afternoon duing my hour plus return trip from Whole Foods, and then launched into my latest diatribe: yet another Lyme pain story,

to which he reliably replied: “Eat more salmon.” And then steered the conversation in a more essential direction.

In eighth grade when each of his fellow students had to make speeches, the gist of most was about sports or family. Samsun spoke about Steinbeck and angst. I found a first/second (?) grade poem I’d saved, in his early penciled print. Title: Death.

and now – he’s a writer.

And writers can talk about souls.

They can.

I’m reading SUCH a good book. in the past while, I had been drawn to science writing. I find it fascinating and calming, mostly, in my world that has been not that way.

But this is a novel. I told Ariella, there’s a reason I hesitate to read novels. They can be SO true.

This one is intense. The writing is beautiful: The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny, by Kiran Desai. Her understanding of what it feels like to be an immigrant from India in the USA is what I expected.

Yes, but what unfolds is the story of many; the individuals in (Delhi, Rangoon/Yangon, the Himalayas, Paris, London, NYC, Vermont, Kansas, etc) are shaped by their “caste” or their color or education/occupation/generation and where they live and colonialism (either side) and where they’ve traveled and what kind of people they’ve encountered (including mentally ill). I’ve learned so much about myself in reading this book.

One minute, I’m telling Ariella, “Read it!” Then, “No, it’s too well written. It’s painful.” Then,”Actually, I learned from that part. Read the book.”

Watch out for the novel.

It can touch your soul. But I’m still reading. It’s irresistible.And, you know, I think anyone visiting this part of New Hampshire this weekend, would find the annual Sandwich Fair irresistible. It’s quintessential rural American: offering exhibits of farmers’ prize cows, workhorses, chickens, ducks, goats, pies, quilts: there are horse shows, dog obediance shows, antique car shows; drag races, motocross: any kind of pickle or snowcone; high rides, merry go rounds, ferris wheels… All set against the fall foliage of New England. I’d say – it says a lot about the soul of this part of the country.

“and me? I’m here in the fall foliage too” – Peaches.

(where is she?)

A few of those colors

Dancing against the blue of ever cooler Squam Lake