Michael's birthday

sunny, cool, windy, temps 10

It's Michael's 76th birthday. Thank you so much for all your good wishes! I means a lot to me and a lot of Michael.

We had a 6am wake-up call...because Michael was meeting his friend and colleague Bill Woods at the hematology conference - meeting for breakfast at 7am. Out the door he flew at 6:45. Short walk there. I ordered a huge pot of coffee, some fruit and a pastry basket. And got to writing.

I realize it takes me about an hour to settle down and get in 'the zone'...but once there life, and fiction, is easier. Still trying not to worry about the length of the manuscript. As you see, I'm having mixed success.

Michael got back by noon and we scooted out for his birthday lunch at M brgr, just up the street on Drummond. We both had a strawberry/mango milkshake, a burger with mushrooms and goat cheese (the birthday boy also had carmelized onions) and he also ordered sweet potato fries. Thank God one of us did!

Then off to Oligvy's for a bit of birthday shopping...and back to the hotel. I couldn"t quite figure out what the rush was to get back and then it slipped out.

The Masters!

While Michael watched Tiger and Phil et al, I decided to have a massage. Up to the 12th floor. There was the most glorious young man who was a massage therapist. I arrived with two other women - both young. I'll tell you, it was a race to strip down and get into the robe and out the door first, to claim that young guy. He really was quite spectacular. If Markus had been a man, he's have been this fellow. Though I suspect this guy was not a gelding.

Then back upstairs now. Michael had a small nap, but not before seeing Phil get two eagles in a row. Very exciting. And now we;'re waiting for his sons vic and Mike to come by the hotel. We'll have drinks (let them raid the mini-bar) then head over to Entrecote St-Jean a couple streets over.

Unfortunately there's a Montreal Canadiens hockey game tonight so there are a lot of rowdies. Indeed, have to say there is a slight 'flake factor' in the hotel over the weekend. There was a man riding the elevator wearing just a bathing suit. And it wasn't 'Markus' - more's the pity.

Must run - thanks again for all the lovely Michael birthday wishes! I know some of you also have birthday's today - sooo, happy birthday to you too!

Phew...and Happy Easter

cloudy, cool, scattered flurries

A cool, damp day, but the sun pops out every now and then. Perfect day to curl up by the fire, read, have a bath and watch the Masters on TV.

Happy Easter.

Feels a bit like a resurrection here... our life is back! But what a blast we had. Loads of fun with the family. And a wonderful birthday party for Michael. It was especially moving when the cake came out and everyone stood and clapped and sang. And belautiful, robust, heartfelt voices. It just felt like something special was in the room with us. Affection, belonging, even love.

The funniest moment was shortly after Doug, Mary and their kids arrived. with Buttercup. It's always wise to check out BC dropping because you never know what you might find. That missing sock. A glove. The dishwasher. The dog is prodigious. But this time the hilarily wasn't centred on Buttercup, but on Brian. As we walked the dogs around the pond, and I was describing the ice going out of the pond a few days earlier, Brian, who is 13 and thinks with the brain of a 13 year old, which is about on par with Buttercup...well Brian asked if he could go swimming. We, of course, said, fine. Then I said I'd give him 5 dollars to jump into the pond. Well, he stripped down to his boxers (it's practically snowing out) hemmed and hawed for 30 seconds, then ran and dove in.

And came up shrieking.

doug, his father, took the dog's chuck-it (a bit like a rod) and leaned into the pond trying to get him to take it. Between shrieks and swimming for shore Brian yelled that his underwear had come off. So I turned around, knowing he (with his 13 year old brain) was trying to decide what was worse...his aunt seeing him naked, or freezing to death. Happily his underwear was found around his ankles, he got out of the pond and ran all the way home, screaming.

Charlie, a very sanguine younger brother, watched this and commented: I've never seen Brian run so fast.

I went home, put him in the big tub in our bathroom in a hot bath and put an action flick on the TV. And gave him 10 dollars for the swim, and the entertainment. We didn't see him again for an hour and half but all agreed it was worth the money.

Dinner that night was sublime, with our good friend Nancy having made a DVD of Michael's life, from photos I supplied her. Happily Michael can be oblivious to his surroundings and didn't seem to notice pictures coming off the walls, the bookcases, the piano. The place was stripped.

And all appeared on this amazing video...from birth, to nutty 60's hair, to his kids, to our wedding, to our life together. about 15 minutes, and three songs he loves... Josh Groban's When You Say You Love Me, KD Lang singing Cohen's Hallelujah, and Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers 'Islands in the Stream'. It was gorgeous. And very moving.

The food was fab. Only two children cried. Michael cried. I cried. I suspect others cried. There was only a little blood. (I'm not kidding - one of the children fell and scraped her knee quite badly - there were two doctors and two emergency technicians there...and all it took was a mother's kiss.)

Mary and the kids left yesterday morning - but neighbors and friends came by for Easter dinner last night of wood smoked ham (called a Mechoui in Quebec), eggplant parmessan, salads, baguette and chocolate mousse. It was very relaxed. And fun.

But wow, were we tired last night. Today we feel we're creeping back to normal. Making calls, writing letters. Doug and I will drive in to Montreal early tomorrow morning so he can pick up a truck and take some of our furniture back to Toronto with him.

Snowing again here. I wonder if this is how people who've run marathons feel? Exhausted, but very good.

Happy Easter...happy holidays. Happy Michael. Happy me.

Happy Details

snow, rain, sleet, yech.

Another typical April day. We just got back from Montreal - toting a pizza for Tony and a thank you for looking after Trudy.

Signed a lease for a new apartment in Montreal. In Quebec (and nowhere else as far as I can tell) they call apartment sizes as 1 1/2 or 2 1/2 etc. Took me forever to figure it out - and still not totally sure. But we knew we wanted at 3 1/2 - which in the rest of the known world is called a one bedroom.

This place is great - we're very happy. And basically it will be a pied a terre in the city.

things shaping up beautifully for Michael's party. small. 30 people. Including my brother Doug, his ex-wife and still good friend (as she is to us) Mary, and their kids, Brian, Roslyn and Charlie. They're coming from Toronto.

Still loads of details and I'm sure I've forgotten something. Like food. But a relief to know if I have, well, everyone is such a great friend it's not the end of the world. Though I do want it to be nice for Michael. He says he only plans to turnn 75 two or three times, so I'd better get it right!

writing tomorrow morning then coffee with Cotton in Knowlton and a few errands. Blog pretty boring these days. Oh, the proofs arrived for THE BRUTAL TELLING so we're starting on the proof edit...one of the last stages. And saw the US cataloge for it. It will come out in the US in October...so that's 2 books in one year.

I have to tell you that I really love this book. We're back in Three Pines for THE BRUTAL TELLING. Anyway, you'll decide for yourselves.

And A RULE AGAINST MURDER is now available in Kindle, for those Kindlers out there.

Happy Birthday Michael!!!!

partly cloudy, mild, highs 13

It's Michael's birthday!!! Thank you to all of you who've already sent birthday wishes - that is SO kind. I know Michael appreciates it, his face lights up. And I know for sure I do. No Michael, no books. Because of his support and his inspiration. His patience. His amazing ability to be happy for me (not every husband would). He's the framework for Gamache. Stronge enough to be vulnerable, brave enough to admit when he's wrong (and I'm right!). He's joyous even though his work was heartbreaking. Wise and funny and kind.

And today's his day.

First thing we headed off to Tom's Kitchen (we're nothing if not predictable) for breakfast. Large cappuccinos and for the birthday boy a full English breakfast which means - wait for it - fried bread, two eggs (yokes almost amber), bacon, sausage, blood sausage, grilled mushrooms, poached tomatoes and baked beans.

That was one happy guy.

Then we walked to Sloane Square to visit his sister Carol and David.

Then onto the 360 bus for the Tate Britain, which is the 'official' museum for great British art (though there are some works by other artists too). We immediately got on the ferry down the Thames and that took us to the Tate Modern, which has been open a few years. WONDERFUL boat trip - past St Pauls and Big Ben and the Parliament. Stunning.

We toured the Tate Modern (exactly as it sounds - houses modern works of art) It was very exciting. As you know, I write a great deal about art, but depend upon Michael and friends to help me. I don't know a lot about it, but I listen very well. And while I'm not necessarily the most rational person, I am intuitive. I think that helps with all art, and perhaps especially modern art.

Michael was just in bliss. He's a true scientist - always marvelling at the world. Wondering, questioning, taking it all in. But he's also a gifted artist himself. So he was thrilled to see so much modern art.

Then back onto the boat, back to the Tate Britain...a cup of tea and shared sandwich - then into the William Blake exhibit.

Then home, via the Boots pharmacy and the Waitrose grocery store on the Kings Road.

A couple hours to relax then we're off back to Carol and David's for a birthday dinner. They've asked another Canadian couple - the Hampsons. Those of you in Canada might know their daughter, Sarah. She does The Hampson Interview in the Globe and Mail.

But need to be home by midnight because I'm doing a call-in to a book club in North Conway, New Hampshire. Actually, it's about 12:30 am - for about 20 minutes.

Long day - and just the MOST fun. Can't tell you how wonderful it is to give a man who gives me so much, one very special day.

Oh, and we woke up to great news - Gary has emerged from our basement and is putting the support beam in our living room at home. Have asked him to also install a conveyor belt to run through the kitchen, into the living room past the fireplace then upstairs to the bathtub...ala 'No' restaurant in Harvey Nichols. Can stock it with pastries. Can you imagine?

Go Gary!

Take care of yourselves and I'll write again tomorrow.

Riding the conveyor belt at Harvey Nics

mainly sunny, highs 13



Wonderful day. Sorry I didn't blog yesterday - pooped. Did a lot of writing including a 'feature' for Shotsmag, a UK based webzine. Mike Ripley writes for them - when he's not in jail.

And I finished the line edits on book 4 (still no title). They're amazing things - this wonderful editor named Nancy literally reads every word, every line and corrects spelling, grammer, and inconsistancies - things like characters eating two breakfasts, or the murderer never actually revealed. Details.

As I did them I realized how much I dislike doing line edits. I love actual editing, but by the time it gets to line edits I've lost interest. Not in the book - honestly, reading book 4, I think it might be the best yet - unless, of course, it's actually crap. But I know that I'm not, by temperment, a detail person. Michael is, thank God. And normally he would do the line edits, but he's writing his own book (selfish, selfish man) so it fell to my tender hands. Some of the sting of it was removed by doing most of the line edits in a new cafe we found on the Kings Road called Paul. It's actually a chain, from France. Heavenly coffee and apparently amazing hot chocolate (chocolat chaud). And tiny little bite-sized baby croissants.


So now the manuscript for book 4 has cafe au lait rings and little butter smears. God, how I suffer. Why do these things always happen to me?


But finished that...and was going to spend all today writing the next book when we had a call around 11 to say the estate agent wanted to show the flat. It's for sale, as you might have guessed. And apparently Michael and I are considered clutter, so we needed to tidy ourselves out of there. We packed up the writing and headed for Peter Jones department store in Sloane Square.


I'm the world's worst shopper. Impatience and very large hips get the better of me. But since I'm doing more and more public appearances, and since it's now clear flannel pajamas just don't do it (until I'm WAY more successful) then a few new outfits are necessary.


To that end I've made an appointment with a personal shopper at the department store Peter Jones. It's for three days before we leave. Tried to make it sooner - like before the tons of parties and events next week - but there weren't any openings. This delay allows me to eat my way into the next dress size.

Speaking of which, from there Michael and I walked up Sloane Street to Harvey Nichols (or Harvey Nics by those in the know) for lunch. One of our favorite places is the restuarant 'No' on the fifth floor of the department store. There's a more formal 'European' restaurant up there, and then there's the 'No' - which is kind of a Japanese cantine. It's basically a moving suchi bar. You sit, it moves. On conveyor belts, around and around. Each offering in a little dish. You just reach over and take it off the conveyor belt. perfect for Some Pigs like us. It's become part of our London tradition, and in fact we had the delight of finding the same sort of set up at a Japanese restuarant last September in Brisbane, Australia.

So Michael and I ate Harvey Nics, then came home. We spent a few hours writing our respective books, and now it's quiet time - drinking diet cokes, eating parsnip crisps (yum!) and reading the Times.

Had lunch the other day with my agent, Teresa Chris. We had the best time. Always do. Yakking away about all sorts of things. She informed me that my garden was out-of-date. Seems no one has David Austen roses anymore - except me. I adore them. Old English style roses - big and blousey and very fragrant.

I have the unfashionable trifecta...or Grand Slam perhaps. Hair, clothing and now, garden.


And....loving it.


Actually, I didn't want to spoil the fun, but my favorite rose in my garden is called a Sweet Briar. Very old variety, and quite rare in Quebec. It's sometimes called the Shakespere rose since he refers to it several times. It smells of young apples. Not the delicate single pink blossoms, but the leaves! After a rain on a hot Quebec day, as the water is evaporating, it fulls our garden with the most heavenly, sweet scent, of apples.

Had the best news from Lise at home. Her husband Delmar had to have an operation and it's over. Not without it's drama's - it is Lise after all - but he's safe and sound back home. And Lise is nursing him. She really is just about the kindest person I know.

Well - this is long. Sorry about that. Wanted to make up for yesterday's silence.

Michael's birthday tomorrow!!!! 74. Have made reservations for breakfast at a restaurant of his choosing, then we're off to the Tate Britain and then taking a boat down the Thames to visit the Tate Modern. Then home in time for a birthday dinner with his sister Carol and brother-in-law David.


A great day in a great city married to a great man.



Be well and we'll speak tomorrow. Thanks for reading this far...