Jane Little Botkin
I just returned from interviewing Jane Street’s grandson and gained a wealth of information. He had already destroyed some of her work, and I was prepared to find little. Imagine my excitement to discover about a 1 ½” stack of her type-written writings. Poems, short stories, jokes, protest articles. Who knew there would be so…
Read MoreHave you ever been to a wine tasting? You sip a delicious Shiraz and next want to try a Sangiovese. But before you can move on to the next wine, you must rinse the taste out of your mouth with a sip of water, or the two flavors will meld, giving a false impression. In other words, you…
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Since I am about to resume work on my new book, Jane Street and the Housemaid Rebellion: Sex, Syndicalism, and Denver’s Capitol Hill, I am re-posting a blog from my Chasing Rabbits page at www.franklittleandtheiww.net. Later I will break down this title for readers. It sounds nasty, doesn’t it? I will say this, if the “Me, Too”…
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Here I am, my brain processing facts, connections, and others’ analyses for two different books. I can’t believe I started writing at such a late period in my life, but it is what it is, and I have to be hyper-vigilant about my interpretations and analyses, and even word choices. Sometimes I type a word…
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On my way home from Lander, Wyoming, after a horrible start, so bad that I questioned the wisdom in flying out last week. My Southwest Airlines flight took off an hour and half late because someone got the emergency exit door stuck. My connection in Denver was a charter flight to Riverton, WY. Instructions were…
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I email Bump Boedeker’s bronc image to Sarah. I hope the new discovery peaks her interest in her heritage. Cowboys may not impress her much; after all, she is a Wyoming girl where Steamboat is imprinted on everything except the state flag. (Steamboat is Wyoming’s ubiquitous bucking bronc logo.) And like my son, she attended…
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Taking care of a dying person is draining, but I can fend off depression by concentrating on the Boedeker family. This tack triggers another realization, adding guilt to my panoply of emotions. I realize that I am a voyeur, my mind’s eye loupe is peering into their lives without permission. Should I tell Sarah? I…
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Me too, Jane, too?
On a flight to Las Vegas, Nevada, my destination before heading to Bullhead, Arizona, and an interview with Jane Street’s grandson. I have waited all year for this opportunity. The trip is certainly refreshing after watching the drama this week regarding the Judge Brett Kavanaugh hearings. I wept during testimonies—for both individuals. I, like most…
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