“There is neither a proportional relationship, nor an inverse one, between a writer’s estimation of a work in progress and its actual quality. The feeling that the work is magnificent, and the feeling that it is abominable, are both mosquitoes to be repelled, ignored, or killed, but not indulged.”
- Annie Dillard, The Writing Life
1. That even the cruddiest looking banks of dirty, frozen snow from a New Year’s Day storm can be revived by a fresh layer of fluffy, white snow.
2. That even during a time of great sadness, the elation brought about by word of a newborn Little Neighbour wins.
3. That the discovery of a new-to-me musical sensation brings a new thrill with every favourite chestnut rendered by them. I never did hear such tight, swinging, soulful quartet singing (Beach Boys fans will argue. But they will concede that the Boys must have been learning at the feet of masters).
4. That fresh manuscripts do, indeed, need time to ripen.
5. That, no matter what the recipe tells you, red wine and soy sauce have no place in black bean soup.
6. That the day after Newborn Little Neighbour’s arrival, her mother looked serene and beautiful. The day after the Resident Teenager’s arrival, I, on the other hand, looked like Ed Sullivan*.
(*Name the 1970′s sitcom sidekick who originated that line.)