Let's let that sink in. Her name is Harriet Doerr. Or was. She died in 2002 at the age of 92.
It's called Consider This, Senora and it was the second book she published. It is beautiful and very spare and is constructed as linked stories about various people in a small Mexican town, some of them Mexican, some of them North American. She herself lived for many years in a town in Mexico as her husband had business there.
I will certainly search out her other two books. I looked to see if she was related to the author Anthony Doerr, but it appears that she was not.
The boys are here and they are playing Wii with Boppy and I am only going to throw some frozen pizzas in the oven for our supper. It is way too hot to cook steaks or hamburgers on a fire outside and those boys don't care. They would rather eat BOGO frozen pizza than one of my "gourmet" (Mr. Moon's and my joke every night as I put supper on the table) meals made from the garden. I am the grandmother, and as such, am not obliged to provide their vegetables daily.
Owen is talking about making his "famous French toast" for our breakfast. I guess hyperbole runs in the family.
It's been another day of not being able to keep up with what's going on in Washington and it would appear that more and more people are distancing themselves from the Dick Tator.
I would be cheered, thinking that people are actually coming to their senses and revealing the moral fiber they indeed have, however small that fiber may be. However, I tend to agree with Trae Crowder, the liberal redneck, who posted this today:
"Welp, hard to see how #Bannon leavin could possibly result in shit getting worse" - lotsa people
"Hold my beer" - the Trump administration
I can only hope that soon things will end with another joke beloved by southerners which goes like this:
What's a redneck's last words?
"Hey, y'all! Lookit this!"
Substitute Trump and Trumpette for "redneck" and you know what I mean. As long as the nuclear code isn't involved, that is.