Little House on the Volcano

After six days of calamine lotion and baking soda baths my daughter is on the mend. This makes everyone around here happy.

Having chicken pox must be one of the most profound experiences of childhood. As soon as they hear what Sophia has been down with everyone wants to tell me their own chicken pox story. The guys who park the cars at the hotel, for example, or the lady at the rental car agency. I have heard details about body parts of total strangers that I'd really rather not know anything about. It's brought us all closer together.

For the most part I have been stuck in the house with Sophia, except for a couple of runs to airport to change our tickets and the drugstore for Children's Tylenol. This morning, though, Sophia was feeling well enough that I felt I could take a walk around this here development- check out a few lots for sale, see who has a pool, try a few doors. It's fun to stand on some vacant house's lanai- that's, ahem, patio for you non-Hawaiian speakers- and look out over the ocean. I imagine rolling out of bed, having a cup of Kona coffee as I watch the whales swim past before breaking out my laptop and emailing my next bestseller to my mega-agent in L.A.... It could happen, right?

I should make that my new motivation. Keep typing, Desperate. Your lanai awaits.