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May 6, 2001 - I moved out of my NY apartment into Uncle Irv Golden’s house in Connecticut last Friday. It’s gorgeous here. Spring is bursting out all around us. Trees are flowering in pink and white, shrubs are bursting with yellow , and green is back.

I’ve set up an office and a futon bed in his finished basement, and I’m struggling with PR stuff. I still have to research all those organizations and bookstores and send out letters. I’m not very good at this.

On Monday I pick up the invitations to the signings that have been set up in CT and Washington, D.C. They have to be addressed and sent out immediately. My aunt and uncle, Elaine and Bob Friedman are supplying a list of their friends and so are my friends, Susan Lechner and Debbie Barr in Washington. But the addressing, the stamping, the personal notes have to be written.

My life is so focused on this book that I’m feeling unbalanced. Last night was Uncle Irv’s eighty fourth birthday and I bought lobsters and invited his friend Bernice and her daughter Jackie to join us for a feast. If I am ever to be executed and given a choice of a last meal, it will definitely be lobster.