Good morning, My intrepid husband, is making his second batch of blintzes. The other day he came to me saying he could do this, and I was a bit sceptical, but these are, totally awesome, and do freeze well. Getting to YUM.
On another note, I got a sudden out of the blue, summons, to come to The Hay Library to do something, unspecified, with my archive of letters. This was a very rare email from the man who has kept these letters by dint of a story, told here on line. I can say, since I keep most of my emails, that this is a very curious story, and by far, the most curious element of this, is this man’s silence, with respect to my letters, and my own person. As documented, I have requested meeting with him to discuss these archives in the past, with no response, as if I never wrote this, and I have also requested some response to content. I can say, that any blog of mine, here, any one, is more in terms of words than I have EVER received from him, in over eleven years of sending. And he could have stopped this, anytime, but he really didn’t.
The longest ever email I got was from him, outlining a truly outstanding coincidence in his own life. And what few emails I got from him, seemed to be, about him.
I was fully prepared to go to the Library, after all this time, given this sudden summons, but did ask, could you tell me, in two sentences, what’s going on. This was the occasion of petulance, saying I will do this myself, and he seemed so totally put out. I actually felt he was incredibly rude, in writing this was not going to be a “social hour”, and I think this is what finally sparked me, to speak out, and to say, basically, I think it’s time I established some boundaries here, around import and importance.
So that’s where it’s at. I have no idea whether I should actually recommend anyone go to the Hay.
I have the entire Diary in my possession, which is extensive, and complete. I really do not need to have so much ego get in my way and to allow another’s ego to hurt me, to exert such power and control over my writings.
I am aware of the egg in the aural pronunciation of his name, and honest, I think Ego is not the answer in how we deal with each other, and that a deepening knowledge that we’re all in this together, is where it’s at. This Diary is about us all, and I say, in every possible way, this Diary is about words, their deconstructions, and a story that involves us all, and strangely, I could not have written this story, myself.