Katie Krueger’s Snippets of Gratitude

A perfect day:

• Getting out of a meeting 2 hours earlier than planned
• Picking up my sweet new Schwinn Collegiate (an August 1969 model) from the bike shop and going for the first ride.  Telling anyone who will listen the story of how I found it abandonned behind my parents’ garage, as though it had been transported directly from my months-long visions of a perfect bike into my physical reality.
• Dinner and drinks with a friend where laughter was served with the appetizer, main course, and dessert.  Having a friend actually take me up on the suggestion that she show me a sweet driving move, like whipping  a doughnut in the parking lot.

• Opening the Isthmus to the business section and seeing the cover of my book, my photo and a wonderfully written article about my business.  Sharing a two-page spread with Don Wickstrum, Paul Moss, and Gail Ambrosius.  The latter serves up little nuggets of heaven at such a bargain.

• The wherewithal to enjoy ever minute it.

Mali La is  a three-day party, thrown at a group campsite in Decorah, Iowa, to kick off the summer.  The host is one of those guys that everyone loves and the guests are his friends from various stages in life.  Everyone is easy going and committed to having a good time, whatever that means for them.  Canoeing, biking, bocce-balling.  Drinking, smoking, eating, laughing, drumming, guitaring.  Families, friends, nature.  It rocks.  Some of this year’s highlights:

• sleeping in the car - the most luxury bed offering available
• catching up with old friends
• awesome Mali La tshirt
• babies, babies, and more babies
• feats of strength on the suspension bridge
• wearing a summer dress all day
• never knowing what time it was
• not caring what time it was
• backgammon games
• talk of traveling to Dubai
• the timer shot that wasn’t (see below)

What a sweet thing to have Michael Perry, one Wisconsin’s best writers in town this week.  Last time I went to one of his readings, it was at the Orpheum and he was on a panel with another Wisconsin-born writer, David Wroblewski.  Michael posed for a picture, holding up both the paperback of his book,  Truck: A Love Story, and the hardcover of Wroblewski’s The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, saying it was only fair to give David equal exposure.  This was, of course, only weeks after Oprah had chosen Wroblewski’s book for her book club.  It was refreshing to know Perry is just as funny off the page as he is on it.

He is speaking at  A Room of One’s Own on Thursday, but as luck will have it, I can’t make it!  I hope some of you will go, give your abs a good workout through laughter, and swell with the state-pride that his writing of rural life in Wisconsin inspires.

Today I am grateful for a recent invitation to participate in the 2009 WI Book Festival, reading from my debut book.  The theme is Courage!  Come October, I’m hoping to see Michael Perry read again, because he’ll be presenting there too.

On morning this week my sister knocked on my door and woke me up.  I stumbled to the door, wrapped in my comforter, then to the bathroom to put in my contacts.  “I brought the World’s Smallest Friend,” she said as I blinked the sleep out of my eyes.  I pictured some kind of plastic action figure and was pleasantly surprised to come out of the bathroom and meet the cutest puppy ever.  We spent the next hour or so on the floor, playing with the puppy.  That was an awesome way to start the day.  Oh, how different the world looks through the eyes of a creature that only comes up to my ankles (and how dirty the kitchen floor looks when sitting at his level.)  I am grateful for the surprise visit and the sweetness of baby animals.

Its official - Gratice Press is going for a second printing of my book Give with Gratitude!   If you believe (as I do) that the first edition will become a rarity that some day shocks audiences of our grandchildren on Antiques Road Show with its high value, then I highly recommend you buy a copy soon - there are not too many left.  The first edition had a fatal flaw - a matte lamination that caused the cover to curl up and eventually started peeling off.  All you baseball card collectors out there know that a batch of collectors’ items with a flaw are inevitably more valuable.  (Or maybe I’ve taken the idea that opportunity lies within our mistakes a little too far.)

This summer, I am driving around the midwest, selling the book to any audience that is interested.  I welcome any and all marketing suggestions from you, readers. Maybe you have a book club that’d like a visitor?  Maybe you know a group of students who would feel inspired by the idea of stuying abroad?  Maybe you know a group of people who love to learn about Africa? Seriously - any idea is a good one.  Get in touch!

Selling my books out of the trunk of my car kind of makes me feel like a sketchy street merchant selling designer knock-offs, but I try to feel more like John Grisham, who did the same thing when he started out.  Writing my first book in the kitchen closet that I call a home office just makes me aware of all the room there is to grow.  After all, Barbara Kingsolver started in similarly small space.

So it is here, sitting in a wheeled office chair in an office entirely too small to roll around in, that I’ve been reading your letters of encouragement and praise for the book.  Thank you.  You keep me going and help me believe that I can help change the world’s perception of Africa and deepen their sense of gratitude.

I am grateful for the friends, family, and readers in my life.  Without you, I wouldn’t be able to dream bigger than the walls of this closet or the small trunk of my Prism.

The muddy garden caked my flip-flops with a layer of mud as thick as their soles.  Each step made a sucking, slurping sound as I rounded the patch.   Bits of red peeked out at me, calling me to part the tall green leaves and pluck the ripe, fresh fruit from the plant.  I am grateful for the first harvest of the garden this year - strawberries!