Tuesday, July 11, 2000

1:10 a.m. Today I insert a photo taken today by my clever and wonderful son, just because I can. Technology -- it's moving faster than the rapids in this river. This is the Delaware River, the mighty Delaware River.

If I could go on vacation, this is where I'd be. Most of my family lives within rafting distance of this body of water, and where I come from, it's pronounced with two syllables: Del-ware. I was born in Del-ware County. I miss hearing that missing syllable more than I can tell you.

As technology continues to improve, my job becomes a little more portable each and every day. There are satellites in geosynchronous orbit, and the word is too new for my American Heritage Dictionary, so I think that's how it's spelled. It means that they hover in roughly the same place in the sky, even though we spin circles around the sun every year.

The dictionary is too big and beautiful to give up just because it's missing a word or two, and it was a gift. It has pictures on every page, including my favorite -- the star-nosed mole, also from eastern North America, which I reproduce for you here, because I can.

He's actually much cuter in person, and yes, my picture doesn't do him justice. If you have a chance, you really should look him up.

2:33 a.m. We have an overnight guest, just in from the airport, here for a meeting tomorrow and then he gets right back on the airplane and flies to another country. I'm up and down, being a hostess for a few minutes (fluffing and pouring) and then I run back in here and sit down and become a writer for a few minutes (thinking into the tunnel, hacking the sheer stone wall ahead of my desk lamp, trying to pick out the one right word here ... there ... all the while listening to hear if I'm needed above ground in the warm, well-lit kitchen).

Up and down. In and out of the dark, fecund creative space where unthought creatures blink at the sudden light, startled momentarily from their timeless prison. Almost in my grasp -- and then it quiets down and waits while I clean up the counter and make small, small talk and lay out fresh towels.

It only waits so long. Eventually, it slithers back into the shadows and shows its star-crossed face to another writer with less baggage and a little more time to spend.

And I'm tired. I really could use a vacation.