Santa Fe Snow (2007), painting by Clark Hulings.
Just when the first real cold hits and I face another winter here in the mountains, I’m rejoicing in the company I keep with wonderful women.
The numbers vary. I’ve known some for years, some are women who popped into my life for mysterious reasons or no reasons, and some turned up at one of the sixteen readings I’ve given from Taken by the Shawnee in the last five months.
They are distinct individuals, of various ages, part of the consciously created family that means so much to me.
Mary-Charlotte I’ve known for years, since she used to interview me on her estimable radio show; now, at a later period in our lives, she’s made a cozy home with her partner and various dogs and, like many of us, is dealing with the mixed blessing of her mother’s house in the east, which she has inherited.
Julianne has come to two of my readings, which is in itself notable. She gave me the most detailed and prescient reaction I’ve had so far to my novel. We were about to get together but it’s that time of year: she’s hosting a raucous assembly of children, parents and dogs.
Sandy is also brand new to me, a neighbor up the street who asked me to a gathering at her house a few months ago. Her house charmed me and of course that means she charmed me, too. She has a son who’s an artist in Los Angeles and I visited his rather mystifying show there a few months ago.
Sally has a beautiful red-haired daughter who makes the singing at many events remarkable; Sally herself is an accomplished academic and, so far, the only woman I know as committed as I am to feminism.
Cathy introduced me to Sally. Cathy’s book related at a slant to Taken by the Shawnee since it takes place in Ohio, close to the ancient Shawnee settlements, long since dispersed when the tribe was forced out on the Trail of Tears, making do with settlement in Oklahoma.
And finally Jean, a marvel of energy and organization, who owns and runs my favorite bookstore here.
I’m blessed to have women friends from earlier times and places: Cia, whom I first knew forty years ago when she was married and raising children, and is now partnered with wonderful Ann.
And Flossie, my one college friend, who calls me on the 22nd of each month in honor of my birthday in January; I remember the blessed reprieve her mother provided for me in Cambridge when I escaped the chaos of my off-campus dorm to write uninterrupted in her sunny Brattle Street house.
And last but not least, my group of friends who come to my workshops at the Carnegie Institute in Lexington, Kentucky.
I wish there were a Wonderful Women worldwide. We would change the nature of things.
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