My sister and I spent eight days, 24/7, together recently and discovered we could actually do
that. When we were much younger and she six years younger than I, she was such a pest.
I remember protesting to our mother about one thing after another, and the answer was always
the same: "She's going through a stage." One day, in desperation, I answered back: "But she's
always going through a stage."
Her present stage is quite wonderful -- organizing a sort of book tour in Washington and Oregon
for me and driving me around some of her favorite places in the region that has been her home for
more than 40 years. We rolled through mountains in Washington, yellow aspen leaves brilliant
against the dark Douglas firs, and emerged into the wheat, hay and hop fields of eastern
Oregon where the country rolls and rolls under an enormous sky, the golden fields punctuated
occasionally by precise rows of staked grape vines. The clouds seem far away here, the rivers
large, the houses scarce.
In small towns, main streets seemed busy, and we visited one independent book store after
another, giving them a copy of the new book, "Rose," and having a chat about what we were
doing. We weren't expected, but the welcomes were warm and in one store, the Book Stop in
Hood River, Oregon, the man behind the counter pointed to my name on the book and said,
"Is this you?" I answered,"Yes." His finger moved to the line that said "A sequel to
"Sarah's Daughter," and he stunned me. "Two of my daughters readyour book," he said.
Hood River is now on the map for me. Read More
that. When we were much younger and she six years younger than I, she was such a pest.
I remember protesting to our mother about one thing after another, and the answer was always
the same: "She's going through a stage." One day, in desperation, I answered back: "But she's
always going through a stage."
Her present stage is quite wonderful -- organizing a sort of book tour in Washington and Oregon
for me and driving me around some of her favorite places in the region that has been her home for
more than 40 years. We rolled through mountains in Washington, yellow aspen leaves brilliant
against the dark Douglas firs, and emerged into the wheat, hay and hop fields of eastern
Oregon where the country rolls and rolls under an enormous sky, the golden fields punctuated
occasionally by precise rows of staked grape vines. The clouds seem far away here, the rivers
large, the houses scarce.
In small towns, main streets seemed busy, and we visited one independent book store after
another, giving them a copy of the new book, "Rose," and having a chat about what we were
doing. We weren't expected, but the welcomes were warm and in one store, the Book Stop in
Hood River, Oregon, the man behind the counter pointed to my name on the book and said,
"Is this you?" I answered,"Yes." His finger moved to the line that said "A sequel to
"Sarah's Daughter," and he stunned me. "Two of my daughters readyour book," he said.
Hood River is now on the map for me. Read More