Rubus and Pruñus and all such good thoughts!

Notes from Alexis: “I can do my own talking thank you!” I have to laugh because we were/are both big talkers. I cannot deny that sometimes I think just like her.


Dearest Lex,

I planned, last night, to get right up this morning and write you, then I forgot until just now when I went outside and saw how beautiful everything is turning. It has been cold at night and until noon then it warms up to 60 or even 70, sometimes which presents all kinds of problems as I build a fire and then have to open all the windows to cool it off.

I am testing blackberries today and I feel all out of sorts, so is that the fault of the blackberries or any number of other things. One thing for sure and that is I really hate blackberries. I would rate them one half step behind strawberries. I have one more meal to gag down and that is it! Never again! So ‘why do you ask’ am I bothering to test them if I hate them, because I have this theory that they were the culprits in the first place. I looked them up in the plant book and my day didn’t become sunny and bright when I found out raspberries are also Rubus. I knew boysenberries were a cross between blackberries and something–loganberries I think, but I didn’t know raspberries were also Rubus. Now if I pop out from blackberries (or even if I don’t) I will test raspberries tomorrow. I also feel headachy. (Have you noticed that I have a wild ‘S’ that seems to want to pop into every word. (I have removed them) How does one tame an S? Gad, just one problem after another).

J. got a job as a guard at Weyerhaeuser. He is only working part time and usually graveyard or swing but he is thrilled. He has a uniform and hard hat. I hope it turns out permanent or until little J. can support him, whichever comes first.

Squirrely came out just now and is running over the wood pile. I have only seen him a time or two this summer but he has built himself an elaborate home out in the pasture.

Here is my latest beef. You know, when I tell someone I’m writing a book. I keep getting, “So is my girlfriend, brother, husband, etc.” It has the desired result of cutting me down to size and stopping the conversation dead, and putting the talk back with them, so they can hear something interesting.

I have started doing something I should have done years ago. There are people–all the C’s, PB, AB, ML,- -who interrupt every other word to stick in their own and now I say, “Please let me do my own talking.” If they persist, I get more emphatic. In other words I scream and stomp my feet. If there is anyone in the world able to do their own talking it is me! So obviously they have some other reason than incompetence on my part. Some reasons I can think of: (A) Gwen is boring (B) they are interesting (C) they are stupid. Which one do you think I’ve chosen as the correct answer?

I have been so irritated at people for their response to my saying ‘I’m writing a book,’ I’m sure it’s because I consider writing a book such an exalted endeavor. Then along came CH, and when he came up to get tomatoes he was just thrilled, he wanted to know if I was “really sure enough – writing a real sure enough book!” and then he said it was something he had always wanted to do but had never gotten down to it. So maybe there is the clue. The only ones who would be interested are the ones who want to write.

I have EAB down to a ‘countable few’- -say five or six- -chapters before I go back and start knitting it all together. I consider this first draft spinning, second is knitting or weaving, 3rd draft is sewing, and the final draft should be blocking and pressing. Of course there could be some embroidery on the finished piece.

I am going up to OIT Friday to a computer fair and pick up brochures, and then I am going to the County Clerk’s office to find out how one starts out to do genealogy. Am going to go to library and call The Genealogy Society. I have precious little interest in my own genealogy although at one time I was excited about it. However, Anna in EAB is interested in genealogy, and I have to know what she has to go through to find out things.

Have come up with a working title for Book Two–It is ‘Tangled Webs’ from the old saying “Oh what tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” This tickles me because weavers call all that thread business on the loom the web and many times it’s “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to weave.” God knows that linsey-woolsey was a tangled web.

Book two is also a tangled web. I have one chapter written and one cooking and some good names. It amuses me to write about the kind of fantasies people really do have–such as ‘what if I was adopted’ or ‘what if I was stolen by gypsies,’ of course in my case I was sorely disappointed that I wasn’t.

I dreamed the other night that you were trying to teach an Indian boy some kind of code on a computer. I was a little condescending but admitted you weren’t doing too bad with the teaching. I woke before I could remember the message. Too bad, it was probably of great significance. Do you suppose my subconscious is trying desperately to communicate with me?

Well, Rubus and Pruñus and all such good thoughts.