Many, many thanks to all of you who’ve shared your enthusiasm for my book. I’m ridiculously proud of this book and incredibly grateful for all the support and encouragement I’ve received throughout the long, long journey from idea to bookshelf.
Just wanted to send a brief update to let you know that REPORTING LIVES is now available in several formats: hardcover, trade paperback and Kindle. All of these are available for purchase on Amazon here: http://amzn.to/1oyTKgU
I’d love to have your help in spreading the word. Here’s what you can do:
We still love our veggies and “our” farmer. And I’m still mostly obsessed with creating healthy meals that my kids will eat. But, you know, I’ve also got all this book-coming-out, still-running-a-business stuff going on. So, sometimes we slack. And we don’t take photos of chain restaurant chicken tenders. Because nobody needs to see that.
Like my crazy grandma before me, I am certain that the weather affects my sinuses, causing ridiculously bad headaches that follow changes in barometric pressure. (Scientists tend to doubt that this is a real thing, by the way. So I might be nuts, too.) The last few days have been particularly rough, with a weird boomerang from cool-and-pleasant to hot-and-humid and then right on back to cool-and-pleasant in the space of less than 72 hours.
I’ve been slightly less than fully coherent for much of this time: tired, but not sleeping well. Also, I can barely hear out of one congested ear – a fact I seem weirdly able to forget until I pick up the phone – and my balance is slightly off, keeping me from my customary long runs on the hilly trails near my house.
I’m not a person who often gets sick and, anyway, there’s not much to be done about it (other than writing very whiny blog posts, of course), as life – in the form of kids, business, home, etc. – does have to go on, regardless of whether I feel like managing it. I have found, though, that the state of being slightly, um, under the weather is a useful one, creatively. There’s something about being physically sluggish that allows your mind to engage with the world in a different way. All those consumptive poets probably were onto something.