It’s so foggy in Leelanau this morning that sunrise is an abstraction. I’m 10,374 words into my work of fiction (the main character a 12-year-old girl) and mention that here (going public, as it were) to keep the pressure on myself to continue. I’m also several chapters into Harry Scherman’s fascinating book on economics, THE PROMISES MEN LIVE BY, published 80 years ago, and am enjoying immensely his clear, orderly account of the field, as well as the examples he gives of the history of trade through the ages, showing how much continuity and how little real underlying change has occurred. Obviously buying and selling have evolved further since 1938--but more of that later. For now here are a couple more pictures from Grand Marais.
First is Bess Capogrossa, our dear friend and hostess at the Superior Inn in Grand Marais, the hotel of the window pictured yesterday, that from which Sarah looked out so longingly over town and watery horizon.
Another of many friends in this little village is writer and baker Ellen Airgood (read one of her short pieces in STORIES FROM WHERE WE LIVE—THE GREAT LAKES, ed. Sara St. Antoine, from Milkweed Editions, 2005), who with her husband, Rick, the fantastic cook, runs the remarkable West Bay Diner.
First is Bess Capogrossa, our dear friend and hostess at the Superior Inn in Grand Marais, the hotel of the window pictured yesterday, that from which Sarah looked out so longingly over town and watery horizon. 
Another of many friends in this little village is writer and baker Ellen Airgood (read one of her short pieces in STORIES FROM WHERE WE LIVE—THE GREAT LAKES, ed. Sara St. Antoine, from Milkweed Editions, 2005), who with her husband, Rick, the fantastic cook, runs the remarkable West Bay Diner.
No comments:
Post a Comment