They Sprout When You Least Expect Them

THING ONE:

I had a birthday the other day (I try to keep it to one a year). Early in the day I ran out to do a few errands in town and I popped by the post office to check my box. 

Setting up a PO box was a good decision. It’s been a source of joy and little surprises. There are letters from young readers, but also, sometimes, heartfelt notes from parents, educators, librarians, and booksellers. These are the unexpected encouragements—the little reminders that my stories really *are* being read out there in the Big World.

When I checked my box on my birthday there was a key. A key! A key means there’s something in the package locker (I have a Very Little Box). Inside the package Locker I found a box that looked like this:

And inside the box was a note that said “Happy Birthday!” 

And there was this:

A perfectly sculpted little onion head from Mighty Jack. 

So thank you, dear reader, for making my day.

THING TWO: 

I’ve been in one of my Very Circus-y Moods of late—practicing some of the old tricks and sketching ideas for small scale stage shows and just generally thinking in terms of calliope music and tattered finery. In the midst of these revelries I stumbled on this video of David Dimitri’s One man Circus and I think it’s absolutely charming:

Wishing you a day of subtle surprises. 

A Video that Helped

 The months immediately following Ida’s death are a bit of a blur. It’s hard for me to remember what happened when. But there were two very important things that happened with work. First, my publisher seemed to sort of fast-track an agreement for a third Julia’s House story (the one that would become Julia’s House Goes Home). Second, my friends Zack and Jerzy swooped in and, with some help from Colin and Rose and a few other friends, wrapped me up in the project of making a short music video, with puppets, to the tune of a nearly forgotten Halloween song called “The Mummy’s Ball.”

There came a moment when I needed to work, and I needed to just lose myself in creating something, to keep from falling beneath the waves. And my friends seemed to know that. They seemed to know it was time to just make a little magic with cardboard and markers and cheap craft supplies. 

The Mummy’s Ball was made so quickly, and with the help of such dear friends, that I didn’t even have time to feel guilty and horrible for doing something resembling fun. 

That’s why this video will always and forever be tremendously special to me: 

The Mummy's Ball - Spooky Halloween Music Video (with puppets!) from Mirandum Pictures on Vimeo.