When a sudden spell settles upon the women of a small town, they turn their backs on the husbands and lovers, just as the new high school drama teacher has chosen Lysistrata as the senior play! In the hands of a lesser writer, such a ploy might not work, but Meg Wolitzer hits the mark with this tale, shall we say parable or fable, of love, sex, and power in the modern age. Proving once again that little has changed between men and women since genesis.
If you are looking for a smart, insightful, and occasionally laugh out loud novel, this is a good one. Read the full review at http://www.ocinsite.com/index.php/blog/comments/ocbookblog_the_uncoupling_by_meg_wolitzer
03 March 2012
|Farmers Market Dana Point|
I am resisting the pull of overload, which I thought I was good at until I spent those weeks in SMA and realized that even in Southern California, land of the chilled out, one retains one's own inner tempo and mine is still too much New York. In SMA I slowed down, inhabiting the day more fully. This is the magic of San Miguel and I am determined to hold on.
A grant is due this week for one of my clients and I am inclined to write the draft today, but no, this can wait until Monday. it will get done.
This Saturday morning, I took my aerobic walk, but walked a bit slower. I stopped at my favorite cafe and over fruit and granola, and of course iced tea, I read a great short story in the New Yorker by the great Michael Chabon, start to finish, and took a few moments to relish the message.
I strolled home and lingered at the farmer's market, expanded today to accommodate the crowds at the annual Whale's Parade - more food offerings, more gift stalls. A chat with my favorite granola lady, a smile from the Mexican farmer whose merchandise this morning is especially beautiful and I tell him so. I buy Swiss chard, which my daughter has turned me on to, and pumpkin seeds, as well as bright red radishes, a beautiful Asian pear, a bag of brussels sprouts that I will roast tomorrow. I answer my phone to catch up with my good friend Laura, always a Saturday pleasure.
I return to Skype with dear buddies in London. I prepare a lunch of salad greens, pumpkin seeds, radish, celery, nuts, a bit of leftover mango salsa, pumpkin seed oil and olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I eat slowly.
Soon I will shower to have coffee with a new friend whose mother is in town and who will soon visit San Miguel and she has asked me to tell her more about it. Nothing delights me more right now than the prospect of sharing the pleasures of the pueblo, the city that stays with me, I hope permanently. We hold places in our hearts as we do people, not only the memory but the essence that, if we are lucky, is absorbed and transplanted into daily lives.
This is not a message to seize the day, rather to relish the moments.