Book Party

A wonderful, friend-filled party thrown by my friend Marguerite on Saturday afternoon. Old friends, going back to our first years in San Francisco and a carpool up and down the city’s steep hills) and new (Marguerite’s neighbours, Tian, the poet-breadmaker and her husband)—really it was such a pleasure, though also nervous-making because I never look forward to reading, to being the centre of attention. But afterwards, how glad I am it happened, and how kind of Marguerite to propose to hold it, not once now, but twice.

Sunday a baby-Q in Golden Gate Park with crowds of my son and daughter-in-law’s family and friends, and tents, and burgers and dim sum, and children’s games, then over to Berkeley for the poetry group, a small gathering, with three participants off eastwards—New York, Italy.