Been on the road telling stories and so forth all over the place. In the last seven days I’ve been to North Conway to hang out with school office professionals—who know how to laugh at themselves! On to Cape Elizabeth, Maine, to the first annual Cape Elizabeth Children’s book festival. So many children carrying signed books as though they were treasures, which, of course, they are. Then to Canterbury, NH to talk about the mills of Berlin. Next, I popped down to Nashua to tell stories to Retired Educators of New Hampshire. (Some of my high school teachers were present and accounted for, and said nice things about me. How they remember after 41 (!) years, I don’t know. Maybe they got me mixed up with somebody else.) Today I’m at the Mountain View Grand Hotel in Whitefield talking about "Why Stories Matter" with members of the School Library Media Association. And looking forward to spending Saturday morning with the ladies of the Grand Lodge of the Masons in Manchester.
Which is why the only funny story I have for you is not a story at all, but a word. “Shankins.” I thought it was specific to wood—as in the little bits of wood left at the bottom of the wood box. But yesterday, my mother described her horrible discovery of shankins in the dish towel drawer. Mouse shankins—left over from the great mouse invasion that occurred in November. We caught three of the little buggers. So now I know that shankins is a generic term for bits and pieces left behind.
This is me and Jennifer Thermes at the Cape Elizabeth Author Fest. With an apple.