1) This cold will NOT end. Woke up feeling horrible and stayed home. The one change I've noticed is that I can drink cold water without it feeling like drinking sandpaper.
2) Alan Hollinghurst's The Swimming-Pool Library makes good sick day reading.
3) Jury duty and a cold are inauspicious starts to my favorite month. Hoping things become better!
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It's been awhile! Let's have some catch-up:
1) A two-day trial for jury duty finished today, my second service as a jury foreman. A criminal trial, we acquitted on the one count. Without going into detail, I can only hope the defendant finds a less criminal element to hang around with in the future.
1a) This may be the fifth jury on which I've served; at least two of my five fellow jurors had never served before. One had a J.D. degree, which made me wonder why she wasn't chosen as forewoman. She'd've done a much better job.
1b) An emergency is when an ambulance needs to be called. An emergency is not when there is no gluten-free lunch available. Let's choose our words a little more carefully, yes?
1c) I could feel myself veering into Old Fart territory when the discussion in the jury room (not during the deliberations) turned to the use of pronouns.
1d) What is so valuable about jury deliberations, though, is that everyone noticed different things. One juror picked up on the dynamic between one attorney and one witness that made me see their interactions in a different way.
2) Each day after jury duty I came home, flopped down on the bed and slept soundly for two hours. This cold just will not end! As Greta Garbo said in either Grand Hotel or Camille, "I was ffrrrrrrrraaannnnnntick!" at points during the trial trying to suppress my coughing.
3) Among other things, I'm in the middle of both Doctor Zhivago and The Swimming-Pool Library. Somehow this is the right time to revisit both those novels.
1) Thirty-five years ago today my sweet gramma died at the age of 81. So I have been thinking about her some today among the work emails and The Swimming-Pool Library and Doyle's and the fire alarm going off (more on that in a moment). And especially the music she and I would play for each other. I will leave you only with this Schubert impromptu; someplace I have the sheet music.
2) Twice within 20 or 30 minutes this evening the smoke alarms went off in the building, which has never happened while I've been at home. Long story short, after a lot of emailing, texting, phone calling, knocking on doors, and stepstools, the alarm just in front of my front door seemed to be the culprit. Solution: press the test button. So glad the house didn't burn down or that we're all dead in our beds of carbon monoxide poisoning,
3) Jury duty tomorrow, downtown courthouse. My throat feels absolutely raw because of this cold - drinking a glass of cold water is like drinking sandpaper - so let's hope I don't become Typhoid Harry of the Courts.
"Smart girl. Nothing like being 22." - Joe Gillis to Betty Schaeffer in Sunset Boulevard
"When we were in Burma . . . when we were young . . when such much more exciting things were happening than have ever happened to you, who think you are fin de siècle . . . " from The Lacquer Lady by F. Tennyson Jesse
Earlier this month I visited my mother for a week to "go through the house." Anyone who's been through this type of exercise before knows that the Unexpected is only one case, box, or envelope away. My sister and I uncovered treasures, horrors, and ennui - the former capped by a box of beautiful bits of china from my grandmother's collection, the latter most evident in boxes of 20th-century bank statements.
Two unremembered boxes of my own were discovered in the attic (without bank statements). Among the detritus of 30 years ago, carefully preserved at the bottom of a cardboard box with a wide bottom, were three or four sheets of pink leopard skin wrapping paper. Insert Metaphor for Magic Carpet Here, 'cause they took me right back to who and where I was when.
The 1980s. Boston. College. Auditions, April, 1982. The Holiday Inn near Harvard with square bathtubs. Nearly having my pocket picked on the subway. Faneuil Hall Marketplace when Fiorucci, Greetings R.s.v.p. and Goods were still there. Goods! Goods was the best! And on Newbury Street, Greetings, Jules, High Society, and Blue Moon (the vintage store).
I remember things I purchased at Faneuil Hall on that first visit. A white cotton sweater. A silver ear cuff. (That look just didn't work for me.) And a lot of silly buttons that I still have someplace, including one of a smiley face with a bloody bullet hole between the eyes. I covered the lapels of my overcoat with those buttons. Somewhere (unfortunately) there is still a Polaroid of me taken in some tourist booth at the marketplace, wearing that overcoat, a vintage green and blue polka-dotted silk shirt, Dorothy Hamill's hair, and the village idiot's smile. I almost hope I never find it . . .
But Goods was where I found the pink leopard skin wrapping paper. Goods! What a fantastic little store of necessary oddities - but the chiefest of these was a roll of pink leopard skin wrapping paper. I needed it - needed - to wrap a wedding gift for a college friend getting married in another city. It was so important to be out of the ordinary, and this was so unlike anything else ever created. Mother talked me out of bringing it to the wedding - she was appalled by the idea of the wrapping paper, but also of actually bringing a gift to the wedding. The night of the wrapping paper I met a party of women who became friends, one of whom introduced me to The Lacquer Lady quoted above; the other I'm still in touch with today. It's funny how you meet people and they enter the weaving of your life's tapestry - and later leave or stay part of the design.
Actually, that's 1984, the year of my first apartment away from home. On the back side of Beacon Hill, the side where the Brahmins did NOT live. A fourth-floor walk-up with dozens of visible cockroaches, a fire escape, a futon on the floor, hippie bedspreads from high school, no air-conditioning, and an absent roommate who left his cat, Columbo, for me to take care of. That year, the year it was already too late say that you'd read Orwell's novel. The year turquoise blue was so fashionable. The year of Romancing the Stone. The year I was dragged to just about every screening there was at the Coolidge's Japanese film festival. Seeing Liquid Sky at the Orson Welles in Central Square at the midnight show. "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This." Madonna's "Bordeline."
Beacon Hill. Summer. Unspeakably hot for someone who grew up in central air conditioning. Trying to learn to cook and discovering thyme. Working at a Prominent Doughnut Chain behind the counter, and later, much more happily, at the Vendome. Walking home after midnight through either the North End or the Public Garden without too much fear. Living in the closet without really understanding what it was. Stretching out on the fire escape outside my bedroom window at night, peering down into the bedroom of a man two floors below . . .
What do I miss about the 80s? Color! Gawd, the original Calvin Klein briefs in shocking colors with white waistbands. The second floor of Jordan Marsh. Art Deco Revival. Shoulder pads. Pin-striped double-breasted suits with pleated pants. Skinny ties. Willi Smith. I miss my waistline! I think I still have my first Calvin Klein suit (1983), double-breasted pinstripes with shoulder pads. Now it's shiny as a stove pipe and the last time I even pretended to squeeze into it I couldn't get the closure past my hip bones.
On a family trip to the Magic Kingdom, July, 1982 or 1983. Note the cutout neck of the T-shirt and blame Flashdance.
I think about who I was then: thin to gawkiness (I miss the thin part!), unmistakably blond. Loud! Unseeing, uncomprehending. Alternately poised and oblivious. Lost, determined to get out of the ordinary, but without direction. Definitely fearful. Letting fear and mistrust keep me from taking advantage of my youth. Making some very bad fashion choices - as who does not?
This talisman has made me look back at the enthusiasms and fears of a part of my life I just haven't thought about in such a long time. I don't know how that makes me feel when I compare it to where I am now.
* As it happens, I never sent the wedding gift - a pair of Farberware candlesticks from Blue Moon that I still use - and decades later I learned the marriage didn't last either.
1) Wednesday evening I went to a beautiful little dinner party at the spacious home of friends in the Mysse Hylle section of JP, in honor of a mutual friend visiting from out of town. One of the guests was staying only through drinks because of a cold.
1a) Yesterday after a late lunch with a volunteer I was not feeling well and went home to sleep for a shocking two hours. I awoke with the beginnings of a scratchy throat, and this morning one swallow told me that the summer cold was now visiting me.
2) Immediately I remembered dialogue from Rope:
Mrs. Wilson (the chatty housekeeper): "Well I hope she's staying in bed with plenty of fruit juice."
Mr. Kentley (the repressive Sir Cedric Hardwicke): "She is, thank you."
Mrs. Atwater (the deliciously vague Constance Collier): "Ceaulds dehngerous in this heat. Ey'll nevah undahstehnd thet etahl."
3) I will be staying at home today, without fruit juice, gargling with hot salt water and not attending a midday gathering for which I took today as a vacation day. :-(
1) Back porch coffee this morning yielded the unwelcome vision of a rat (no, not a squirrel, a rat!) scuttling along the base of the back fence. Faugh! I rose as it turned toward the house, the filthy thing, causing it to make a sharp turn into the big black rat trap box against the fence - from which it kept emerging to see if I was gone! Faugh!
2) Today's Shakespearean insult (from my Daily Shakespearean Insult calendar, a Christmas gift from Oldest Nephew Who Must Not Be Tagged): "There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men. All perjured, all foresworn, all naught, all dissemblers." - Romeo and Juliet
3) Whoever brought the fried honey cookies from Korea into the office, thank you. I had the second-to-last one in the box, and it was OK.
1) What a slugabed! Even though I was awake, I was so comfortably snuggled into the covers I didn't crawl out until I realized it was after 8:30 AM.
2) A leisurely breakfast with my hosts, and leisurely conversation - and in my inmost soul, a reluctance to commit to any plans. And the realization that I didn't come all the way down here to hang out on ye Fycebykke all day!
3) In spite of the two anvils I carried down here, I forgot a couple necessities and had to ankle down Comical Street. Always interesting to see the changes in the retail landscape. One shop has changed owners and, I'm sorry to say, their product mix no longer caters to my demographic. A couple other places have had some welcome facelifts.
The most mysterious house in Provincetown is getting a new roof!
4) Because one of my three favorite things to do in Provincetown is go to Tim's Used Books, I stopped in before lunch.
One of my favorite views in Provincetown, the entrance to Tim's Used Books.
4a) Tim was not in, darn it, but as usual, I found a book that spoke to me. No, it wasn't the one about prostitution in 19th-century Paris or the biography of Anthony Eden. It's a 1991 history of the Waldorf-Astoria, and as soon as I saw the cover I could hear the opening credits of Weekend at the Waldorf, so I knew it had to be mine.
5) Lunch at ye Ryss's Grylle with my Romance Writer friend, so lots of good talk about writing, summer life on the Cape, books, and friends in common.
6) The sky is clouding up, and I am letting myself use that as an excuse not to go to the beach. Shocking! But I'd rather be at the beach rather than go to the beach. #naptime
1) Twenty minutes after getting out of bed I'd stripped the bed, started a load of wash, emptied all the trashcans in the house, took out the trash, and put the latest batch of "Please remove from mailing list" letters in the mailbox.
2) The last day at home is always a flurry of last-minute packing and going through the house to be sure that anything out of place is put away or tossed out. I get very focused on these things, so I'm not always able to pull away.
3) Ten minutes before departure Mother asked me "Robert, can you give me some advice about what to do with this closet?" It was a large closet with a LOT of paperwork in it - and I was already focused on not being late to the airport - so we're gonna have to tackle that later.
4) Mother and I had our photo op at the airport and then I watched her drive off. It was a really good week, and I'm going to miss her.
5) Security took forever, a rarity at LCH. I think they might have been training new staff.
6) The only two things remarkable about my flights home were a) a 20-minute stop-in at my beloved Pappadeaux, and b) some pleasant conversation with my seatmate.
7) And now, HOME! It's great to be here again.
1) Up at 5:01 AM after a night in the guest room, where the bed is wider and flatter so that I don't feel ike I'm going to roll off in my sleep. Coffee and devotional with Herbs and the Earth and The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
2) The big adventure for the morning was bringing two boxes to the Mail Center near the mall to be mailed. For all intents and purposes it's a temporary building, substantially air-conditioned, with a long counter, some mailing paraphernalia, and a microscopic Myry Kyy Cosmetics concession. Mother said "Get there before 10 when the rush starts!" and I did . . . but my order involved some research, and with unusual patience I waited and observed all the goings-on.
2a) One woman had come in and needed to order a shipping box for a bathing suit and other items that were at some resort and needed to be shipped to another person. When asked about the weight, she told the girl at the counter "They said you would know." #iaskyou
2b) Another woman, walking with difficulty, supported by a younger relative and a four-footed cane, and apparently traveling by Lago di Carlo's version of The Ride, was trying to conduct some sort of financial transaction, having been sent there by the supermarket. "Ma'am, we're a small business, we don't have that much cash here," I heard the woman behind the counter say. I felt sorry for her, 'cause it was clear that getting around town was near insurmountable in the first place, aside from whatever her transaction was.
2c) My boxes got shipped successfully - now just hoping that nothing breaks en route.
3) Back home to finish packing - yes, I did get that candelabra into my suitcase! - and then Mother and I headed off to the cemetery office to work out final arrangements with them. We were there about an hour and 15 minutes, half of it waiting around while they dealt with computer issues. But they were wonderful to deal with, and now we have a final resting place for Uncle Bill, who has been waiting patiently in a corner of the dining room lo these many years.
4) When the cemetery lady gave Mother directions to their office she said it was "past Walkons restaurant," which neither of us had ever heard of. So we ended up having lunch there; it's proper name is Walk-on's Bistreaux and Bar, an upscale sports bar with waitresses whose beauty is only surpassed by those of Hooters and who were all dressed as cheerleaders. I'd describe this as a theme sports bar rather than an actual sports bar, but my double bacon cheeseburger was greeeeezy good.
4a) Come to think of it, Mother mentioned during this visit that she had her near heart attack when she was 59, and her father died of his heart attack at age 57. #55thisyear
5) In the debate over what to do next, Bed Bath and Beyoncé lost out in favor of going over the Dreaded Charities List. I reviewed all the nonprofits I'd sent "Please remove from mailing list" letters to during this visit (almost 70, not including duplicates) and Mother checked them off her list. A surprising number were NOT on her list. But we did get held up on subtle differences in names. So glad that's over!
5a) Another 11 (!) "Please remove from mailing list" letters went out today. I was vengefully pleased that another padded "postage paid by addressee" envelope came, and ran to get another heavy book of conservative politics to put in it. Almost too late I realized that the one I'd grabbed was written by one of Daddy's fraternity brothers - oops! So instead they got a copy of The Aquarian Conspiracy, whatever that is.
5b) In light of the news of yesterday and today about the President, some of these letters about ending the witch hunt and impeachment attempts just make my blood boil. I wrote on one or two of them "Please remove from all mailing lists. Praying for your repentance as President Trump betrays the American intelligence community to Vladimir Putin." Let's hope it gets Mother off their lists for good!
6) The next task, after falling like a stone into bed for an hour, was to drop off donation stuff at a local charity that takes donations. It turns out to be in a shopping center where the familiar supermarket has been closed! Surprising to see it not just boarded up, but with a couple homeless drunks sprawled in front. We drove around to the back and left our donations where indicated in a shed with a doorway hung with heavy plastic strips that smelled like stale cola. I was very glad to get out of there.
7) Back at home, I went online to check my flights for tomorrow - and found out I was really supposed to leave today! I'd missed my departure by a mere four hours. Decidedly the worst thing I did today. Eventually a superstar customer service rep at the airline got me on the identical flights Wednesday - hurrah!
8) While waiting for all this to happen, Younger Nephew Who Must Not Be Tagged and His Lovely Wife appeared; we were all going to dinner tonight at my beloved Syfyyd Palace. Over the week I've been here Mother and I found a few things they could use at the house, and His Lovely Wife was more than happy to take home Gramma's two hats that we found in the mouldy Maison Blanche box in the attic. #style
9) I do love me some Syfyyd Palace! Boudin balls, chicken and sausage gumbo, gin and tonic, and random chat about local community theatre (in which His Lovely Wife is very much involved).
10) One constant thought throughout the day: that air-conditioning this far south is truly a life support system.
11) And now it's my last night at home before returning home. It looks like Laura, Mother, and I got VERY far in our efforts this week for Mother to live a happier life in her own home.
Toddler Me in Kodachrome.
1) All this time cases of ye Kodychrome slides taken by my uncle (and my grandfather?) have been languishing in their original cases. I remembered vague glimpses of July Fourth parades in New Jersey (where Mother's family lived before coming to Lago di Carlo) and portraits of my grandparents' friends, but not much else. I determined that this trip I would delve into the slides at some point.
1a) This was also prompted by the knowledge that Mother is the only one left who would know the people pictured, and she's 88 years old. In early July, 1983, one night at Gramma's I suddenly said "Gramma, let's get out that linen photo of your mother's family!" Why I should have suggested that I cannot explain - just an impulse. And we got out the beautiful sepia photo on linen of her mother's family, the Wondras, when her mother was a young woman. Gramma identified everyone, and I typed out the names on her Royal typewriter. By the end of the month, Gramma had died.
2) Yesterday evening's news was so depressing I didn't know how I could focus on anything, but I managed to focus on the slides. First I took down the cases, and I'll confess I was daunted by the number of slides. I hadn't remembered so many!
This is only one side of one case.
3) Then the question of how to view them. I'd remembered a two-slide viewer (very much like an old-fashioned magic lantern machine), and it was there with the cases. But as soon as I started to plug it in the outlet sparked! Prominently! And I thought "I am just too busy to burn down the house tonight." So back into the closet went that.
3a) The search then was on for Daddy's old carousel slide projector, and I had JUST found it at the top of the front hall closet when Mother came from the guest room with a single slide viewer that had been Uncle Bill's. Perfect!
3b) Perfect except that, somehow in the intervening years, gold glitter (!) had infiltrated and speckled the glass, which added some black spots when viewing. Oh well . . .
4) Uncle Bill had organized everything meticulously (which was his way). I started with a group labeled "Family," all strangers to me, and all seemingly cousins from Minnesota - a reminder that I really know only half my heritage. Growing up my mother's family was ONLY Gramma and Uncle Bill. The rest were all up North, and my sister and I didn't meet them until we were teenagers. (Of course, if you've ever met the Dimmicks or the Evanses en masse there is no other family and you are instantly part of it.)
5) Then I think there was a group labeled "Personal," and at the end there were three slides of ME. (See above.) I had never seen these before.
6) So many of these images were labeled with vacation destinations that I felt I could pass them over. "Christmas 1956" yielded a treasure trove of images from a Christmas Eve when my Dimmick grandparents still lived on Kirkman Street (a house I never knew). It's surprising to see photos of people you know looking younger than when you knew them. I don't mean the difference from child to adult (I was able to recognize my cousins, all now in their sixties, easily as children) but from older to younger adult. There was my Aunt Betty, there Granny, etc. etc. - so unmistakable, and yet so different.
7) But I hit the jackpot with the small group labeled "Dimmick Thorson Wedding." 'OH MY GOD, MOTHER, COME HERE! IT'S YOUR WEDDING!" I'm very familiar with my parents' wedding album, which is all black and white. Seeing color photos - and such color! - knocked my socks off.
Sorry about the blurriness. Daddy, Mother, and Gramma and Grampa Al Thorson.
8) Wonderful photos at the church, of the receiving line, of the reception (the cake so white, the punch so very orange), of the rehearsal dinner. I did a double take to recognize my Grampa Dimmick looking over his shoulder at the table. It was so wonderful to see these!
9) Mother retreated to bed, and as I continued to explore I found a group labeled "Intimates." Well, that could mean anything, but I'd remembered Mother telling me years ago that her father had some cheesecake slides of "artist's models" that he'd work into his slide shows - and that it didn't please Gramma when he did that. And whaddya know, the first five or six were cheesecake girls. The rest were photos taken at a party, with several of the guests posing in front of a wall surrounded by pinup girl photos (!). Whaaaaaaat?!
9a) And then Mother said "And we have those pinup photos in the guest room closet!" I haven't gone to look . . . yet.
1) After breakfast, quick runs to the library to donate two boxes of books and to Our Preferred Florist to return vases. It felt good to get this stuff out of the way before 10 AM.
2) Happily all the excelsior that's been created here in the last few days has been great for packing fragile china. Still in fear and tremblin' that it will survive the USPS, where I have to bring it tomorrow.
2a) The yard men showed up by surprise today, leading to some domestic confusion when Mother couldn't find her checkbook. It did eventually turn up, hurrah!
3) After lunch at ye Grytte Harvest, Mother and I were delighted to welcome the nice across-the-street neighbor who's also an Interlochen alumna - and whose daughter just graduated this year! We three gabbled away on all sorts of topics for almost two hours. Mother was caught "resting her eyes" a couple times. :-)
4) After a NAP and weeding through more junk mail, I confess my heart sank reading the news about President Trump's behavior repudiating the American intelligence community in favor of President Putin. I am heartsick for America, and angry that so many were hoodwinked into voting for that man.
5) Originally we had a fairly vigorous plan for the late afternoon/evening: a visit to Byd, Byth, and Beyoncé, followed by dinner in the same shopping center and then the second night of the revival at church. Mother was feeling a bit sluggish after her nap and is taking some time to "wake up her body," and I am frankly too downcast by the news to be able to handle revival preaching as well. So we are staying in tonight.
6) The list of outstanding items to accomplish tomorrow is a daunting one, but perhaps I can polish off a couple tasks tonight.
1) Front porch coffee. So rare to do anything ouside here, but before 7 AM is the closest July gets to cool here. The traffic only sounds distant from here, so it's as gentle as the birdsong and crickets.
2) This trip is in the home stretch, and I haven't even approached the room where the Thorson family slides are.
3) I'm almost afraid to look at the news or at ye Fycebykke, since I've been away from both since at least Saturday evening.
1) Through a bit of a headache I made breakfast for us at 8 AM: scrambled eggs (fluffy, just brown enough to prove neglect in the skillet, seasoned with a bit of thyme), toast and jam.
1a) I don't remember how we got on the subject of family weddings - oh! Mother said something about having had children later than the rest of the people they knew - and that set me off on the many weddings of cousins and the children of their friends that I attended as a child, starting with Alice and MIke's in 1968 (or was it 1969?), and specifics on so many others. #babblingbrook
2) We decided we would go to church, and in fact Mother had laid out her clothes the night before. I had not, and got myself into a consternation because I had not packed a dress shirt to wear with my seersucker suit. (Don't tell Etiquetteer; he'll kick my @$$ for "letting down the side.")
2a) I don't advise getting yourself into a consternation. No matter what size it is, it won't fit you well.
2b) Once at church and witnessing the congregation arrive, I don't know why I bothered. The idea of "Sunday best" on which I was raised in that church has been abandoned almost entirely. And when I think of how sharply my daddy and men like Mr. Dickens used to be turned out . . . tsk tsk tsk.
3) As always on such occasions, it was very important to Mother to inroduce me around to people who didn't know (and to some who already did). As the vise of headache tightened around me, I did my best to keep on my happy face and make small talk.
4) The service began with what I can only describe as a cocktail-hour arrangement for piano of "Take My Hand, Lord."
5) For a couple years in his early eighties, Daddy went through a period of weepiness when listening to favorite music or old movies that made him sentimental or regretful. And I have noticed on the (rare) occasions when I am back in a church, I am not entirely in command of my voice when a good, proper, forthright hymn is put forward on the organ as it should be. And such was the case today. This is not entirely attributable to the headache.
6) The sermon was given by a Prominent Methodist Revivalist, who is visiting for an Actual Revival at First Methodist that began tonight. He had some good points, but my ability to accept more words into my head was becoming compromised.
7) Finalmente, the service ended, and I was able to bolt to the mens' room (sadly renovated to replace the gigantic porcelain urinals from when the building was built in the 1920s). Returning I greeted the associate pastor, a pleasant young lady, at the entrance. As we chatted I was approached by several different friends of Mother's (not all of whom I'd known as a child), and I found I was well located to see all the people Mother wanted me to see.
8) She, of course, was still in the sanctuary talking with someone else, and I was reminded of Laura's childhood nickname for Mother, "Walkie Talkie." Because after church she'd always be walking and talking and still never getting any nearer to the car.
9) Afterward we joined the Lunch Bunch, another group of Methodist widows, for brunch at ye Pewjo Strytte Café, one of the best restaurants downtown that I never seem to get to. I ended up at the head of the table (the only two seats left were there), with Mother on my left and a friend of hers from LSU (!) on my right who I didn't know very well. Turns out we have similar political views and ended up having a really engaging chat.
9a) But I have to say, the kitchen must have been waiting for the hens to lay the eggs or something, because the wait for the food was interminable. Awfully good when it got there - I had gumbo and then Maryland Benedict, om nom nom - but I thought my head would burst in half at any moment before it got there.
10) I was home and in bed at 1:52 PM and officially got back out of bed at 4:50 PM. I can't say I slept all that time - sometimes all there is to do is writhe in agony - but mercy goodness, I needed that.
11) Mother's wonderful across-the-street neighbor was on the phone when I slouched into the kitchen, a lady I really like. But when Mother put her on speaker phone, I realized that I had taken in too many words already today and needed quiet. We agreed that returning to church for the revival would not be best.
11a) Instead, we ended up talking about cookbooks. Yesterday I'd rounded up ALL the cookbooks in the house and put them in the dining room. During my three hours of naptime, Mother started going through them - slowly - and set aside the predictable standbys to keep. There remained a very large stack of mostly spiral bound cookbooks from different organizations. Mother took up a thick one on top: "I won't need this." Then she saw a pink Post-It. "Why is this page marked?" Alas, a relative contributed a recipe for beef burgundy! An argument ensued about keeping a cookbook for ONE recipe vs. donating a spiral book with a page torn from it. Mother actually asked "Don't you like beef burgundy?" "That is not the question, Mother. The question is whether or not you are ever going to make the recipe." I ripped the page from the book, put it with the keeper cookbooks, and retreated to the tub.
12) This is actually a pretty accurate gauge of my state.
13) Mother was not that hungry, so we ended up having a light dinner at Yank Sing, a nearby Chinese restaurant where she and Daddy used to go. Won ton soup and "a ton of chow mein" in honor of my grandparents "having courted in all the Chinese restaurants in the Twin Cities."
14) Back home, I felt I must do something to keep on track, so I managed to clear off the kitchen table by sorting some papers, create a drawer in The Room for a box of Uncle Bill's treasures, do two loads of laundry, and wash the few "good" dishes that didn't go in the dishwasher.
15) The treasures included this portraite of my great-grandfather Joseph Houska. Jewelry of his that had been preserved by the family is at the top of this post.
Great-Grampa Houska.
16) Mother, always suspicious that we are throwing out something she wants to keep, announced that she was going to bed and then promptly started going through the two boxes of books I'd repacked to donate to the library. I, of course, wanted nothing to do with it - they were going and that was that. "Mother! You said you were going to bed half an hour ago!"
16a) She made a somewhat disturbing discovery, a small softbound book called Eneas Africanus, which turns out to be the most popular pro-slavery novel of the 20th century! AIGH! After Mother read aloud every blessed word of the linked website above, I shredded the poisonous little volume. We both agreed that that was no kind of literature to donate anyplace.
16b) The big mystery is how on earth such a book could come to be owned by her family. Mother thinks maybe her father bought it along with other books about the South before they moved to Lago di Carlo in 1943.
17) Impossibly, it's now after 11 PM. I have two full days remaining of this trip, and a great deal still to do!
I will not stand for bunny ears! :-)
1) I heard the clock chime four. I heard the clock chime five. I did not hear the clock chime six or seven. I wasn't ever expecting to be the last one up on this trip! #ineededthat
2) This morning was such a long time ago I can't really remember what went on, but it involved coffee, research on ye Ybyye of some of the antique toys and puzzles (results: don't bother), some wrapup for Kid Sister.
3) Mamma knew all the Methodist Widows Who Have Known Us Since We Were Knee High would be at ye Cottyn's for lunch - that's what they do on Saturdays - and she really wanted us to go, so we did. Ye Cottyn's is not far from our old house - indeed, I remember when the building was built as the new 7-11 in the neighborhood! - and it's a typical hole-in-the-wall burger joint. So off we went for an 11:30 AM arrival time. And there we were, right behind all the Methodist widows in the short line to place orders - all of us glad to see each other and exclaim, etc. etc.
3a) I had one of the best bacon cheeseburgers ever.
3b) We were all so busy talking that we didn't even near when our order was called for pickup. A lady at a nearby table actually took the trouble to bring it to us!
3c) Chatting with one of the ladies, turns out her daughter-in-law is running for office in Texas as a Democrat.
4) We ended up making an impromptu visit to the cemetery, which had been freshly mowed.
4a) I'm afraid Granny and Grampa look like they've been out in the sun too long. Anybody have any advice on how to treat metal in these circumstances?
5) The main event of the afternoon was a surprise round of Teacup Roulette between Laura and me. The box appeared to be Uncle Bill's share of all the "nice" teacups and other assorted china from Gramma's collection; we've all known that Mother's share is in the cabinet over the freezer.
The battleground before lines were drawn.
5a) Some pieces I remembered very well, others not at all. (None of them left me asking "Gramma, what were you thinking?") The bidding went well, and we each made a concession (I forewent a claim on a beautiful black-and-white cup with roses, and Laura allowed two small pitchers with English coaching scenes on them), but to my surprise, there were about half a dozen that neither of us were interested in. So now it's up to me to research for values.
The one that got away.
6) All that said, I am delighted with my share of the legacy.
Notice especially the all-black demitasse at left. It's Wedgwydd.
7) Then it was time for Kid Sister to leave for the bosom of her family, so of course I insisted on a photo op that would be kind to our chin lines. See outtake above, but this is the nice one.
7a) But here's an outtake:
NO, I will not stand for bunny ears!
8) Now the thing about Mother is, as soon as she says she's going to do something, it really means she's going to do about five other things first. This is especially true if she says "I'm going to take a nap" or "It's time to rest my bones."
9) We are dining in tonight very casually - Mother said she's just not hungry - and that's fine by me, too.
1) I know better than to read the news just before bed. But I did read the news before bed, so it's entirely my own fault that I slept so badly. Eventually I just got up and got going at 5:00 AM, leaping like a stone from my bed to suck down some coffee.
2) In the kitchen I just grabbed a stack of papers in one corner of Mother's desk and started sorting. These were copies of notes and letter she'd written to friends and organizations, and obituaries and other ephemera. Last night we'd found an alphabetical accordion file, so I used that to file them all by last names (if I knew them). Not the sort of stuff to toss out.
3) Laura joined me after a bit - her family are all early risers - and I moved on to the cabinets over her desk. The left one daunted me too much. The right one contained two of three shelves with stacks of recipe clippings that had yellowed to mahogany. For me, it was like the computer: select all, delete.
4) Mother ambled into the kitchen just when I was beginning to wonder if we should check on her, and then all of a sudden Laura was up in the attic (!) and I was taking boxes from her and stashing them in the guest bathroom temporarily. Mind you, it's not even 8:00 AM, and I haven't had breakfast.
4a) Bits of fresh insulation accompanied all these offerings from Attica, so I had to wrestle with the vacuum cleaner immediately before Mother called attention.
5) And again, before I knew it, Laura and I were out of the house en route to the post office and other errands. Felt good to drop off these 64 envelopes with "Please remove from all mailng list" messages.
6) By 10 AM we were at the mall, a ghost town compared to other visits. We reminisced about the Piccadilly Cafeteria (now replaced by a Large Cosmetics Outlet), which was the new one that opened in the early 1970s. I'll never forget all that foil-inset wallpaper! But Lago di Carlo in general, and the mall in particular, "arrrrn't what they was."
7) A quick stop home yielded a lot of Uncle Bill's childhood toys and other games from Gramma's house (see above). What delight!
8) Then off to ye Hykus Pykus for some magical elixirs, ye Ryly Pyly to collect some sammiches, and home, where I started a midday NAP at actual midday! Because gurrrrrrlllll . . . I was hitting the wall.
8) Not that that nap got me very far. But then it was time to open a couple time capsules - my own. Sheet music of my gramma's that I thought had been lost, homecoming and prom photos from my one year in Catholic school, scripts, cards from high school graduation, and . . . . PINK LEOPARD SKIN WRAPPING PAPER!
9) We then entered a somewhat fraught period involving decisions about whether or not to bring the recycling to the nearby recycling center, taking recyclable material OUT of the trash and into the car to bring there, debating what was and was not recyclable, Mother's car not being able to go anywhere because the battery had died, moving all the recycling into Laura's van, getting additional recyclable material from the house into the van to humor Mother (this after we were all in the van with the doors closed and the engine started), getting two stacks of National Geographic into the recycling to humor me, and then driving off in a sudden rainstorm.
9a) As it happened, we started a trend; we drove into a very empty lot, but then had two cars waiting behind us when we left.
10) At home, another somewhat fraught period going through the garage, and the attic above it. The latter was quite a surprise - much fuller than anticipated, including a couple swank hats in a moldy old Maison Blanche hatbox and a roasting pan with a facsimile of the Declaration of Independence in it. We will really have to tackle this next trip.
11) More time capsules, this time from the garage, and this time mostly things from Uncle Bill: letters my gramma received after Grampa Al died in 1955, information about the silver (which I have now) and the Oriental rugs, Elks and Shrine memorabilia, a camera-shaped pewter belt buckle, and a charming photo of my gramma before she married.
12) Cocktail hour now. Apparently the AAA guy just got here to jump the battery.
1) In the afternoon the nice lady from the funeral home came to call and review all the arrangements for, as she said to Mother, "when the Lord calls you." Laura and I hadn't met her - I forget why, but one of her colleagues handled all Daddy's arrangements - but she was absolutely wonderful to work with and a true professional.
1a) Mother particularly wants a Christian Science hymn, "Shepherd, Show Me How to Go," which includes the lyric "Lead thy lambkins to the fold." I will admit to getting a bit testy over discussion of whether or not it's a hymn or a poem. OH MY GOD, if you sing it, it's a hymn!
1b) I took care to mention that we would not have a gold hearse on this occasion, but I did not mention, as I have joked with Mother so often, having the ushers distribute paper napkins to everyone as they arrive. It has been Mother's lifelong goal to be sure that everyone has a napkin. :-)
2) I must say, Laura and I really cleared away a LOT of junk mail paperwork today, but there is no - NO - better way to clear a table than by knocking over a tall glass of water on it.
3) Cocktail hour! I enjoyed a manhattan in the living room while discovering the music of Rosita Serrano.
4) Younger Nephew Who Must Not Be Tagged and His Lovely Wife joined us for dinner at Big Daddy's, where I enjoyed a large, savory bowl of chicken and sausage gumbo.
5) Afterward we got to tour their new house, which Younger Nephew is seriously remodeling. They are growing fruit trees in their yard! I am so impressed.
6) Over ice cream at home, Mother and I wandered over a few topics, and I then asked "And what are we going to throw away next?" This led us down the wonderful rabbit hole of the remanining children's books in the house! One of the best things our parents did for us was sign us up for some sort of book club when we were little so that we got a new book in the mail - oh mercy, every few weeks. They are not all still here, alas, but many favorites are! We have just had an enjoyable journey renewing friendships with almost-forgotten friends.
6a) I am only going to allow enough children's books to remain in the house that will fit in a particular cabinet. Mother is already reclaiming some of my discards. :-)
7) Aside from alll the junk mail, we are also having to run interference with junk phone calls. Three times today - including just now, after 9 PM! - we have gotten calls from "Shreveport, Louisiana" - that have been from political organizations making "courtesy calls." I tell them all to take this number off their lists.
1) Yesterday's journey included a surprise visit to my beloved Pyppadyaux at DFW terminal A (my layover was longer than anticipated), a 45-minute wait on the tarmac, and dinner at ye Olyve Gyrdynne with Mother and Laura, where our waiter was definitely one of "the Oscar Wilde sort."
2) Exhausted, I sank like a stone into bed, but still didn't sleep longer than three hours at a stretch. I still couldn't sleep in past 6 AM.
3) Mother is snowed under by junk mail, including some of the most inflammatory, outrageous falsehoods. I spent part of the morning preparing Please Remove From Mailing List envelopes (which will do no good), but coming to grips this is Tsunami of Evil is why I'm here. Fourteen requests have been prepared.
4) We ended up talking about five minutes about whether or not to throw away a particle-board box designed to store VHS cassettes. I should mention that the cassettes in question got tossed out the day before. One of the more engaging issues of this visit is going to be convincing Mother that she doesn't have to worry about whether or how something gets used after it's been thrown away.
5) Also disposed of some of my uncle's moldering Christian Science literature. Later over lunch, discussing hymns for Mother's funeral (which will not be for many years, we all hope), sudden consternation lest the relevant information have been tossed with said moldering literature. Of course, Laura confidently found what was needed when we returned home.
6) Lunch out at ye Grytte Hyrvest, which has the advantage of being new (less than two years old), very close to home, and the employer of one of Daddy's favorite aides from the nursing home. Happily she was on the counter today, and we really enjoyed catching up.
7) I am now going to have a great big NAP to rejuvenate for the next round.
I've found a relatively quiet spot with a table and a chair and a cup of coffee at O'Hare, where I can spend the next 90 minutes before the next leg of my trip home to Mother.
1) As you know, this visit is specifically to "go through the house" - and Mother initiated this, which is wonderful - so the idea of cleanup is in the air. Last week at the office I surprised myself by tossing out about two dozen notebooks of files that I had not looked at in over eight years. Yes, it felt good, and I already know there's more to purge when I return.
1a) Skimming through all those old banquet event orders and meeting notes and whatnot showed me how much my work has changed in the last five years.
2) The frosé cocktail is definitely the Hip Drink of the Moment. Yesterday I had the pleasure of lunching at ye Synsye with my colleagues from the Pops, and the streetside chalkboard menu included a frosé-related hashtag.
2a) No, we didn't indulge! Mercy, I had two meetings later in the afternoon.
3) The car service I've used for years changed their voicemail message to a crying child. That didn't inspire confidence. Found another car service where I could order online. Showed up 15 minutes early. No hassles. Peace of mind has a value above rubies.
4) Flying in first class on miles this trip (hence this atypical layover in ORD; I usually fly BOS-DFW-LCH, not BOS-ORD-DFW-LCH). Others of you may already know the thrill of being the very first passenger to board a flight, but for me I think it's happened only once before. And it is a thrill. There wasn't even a line behind me! #worktherunwaysweetie
5) I was so impressed with the stewardess, a Sooooouthun laaaaady of my generation who really had a way with children. A mother and daughter were sitting behind me and at the beginning of the flight, when the stewardess was taking drink orders, I heard her say "You look like an apple girl" with such friendliness in her voice.
6) And so lovely to be among the very first off the plane. I was so pleased, and so sleeeeeepy, that I left my copy of The Economist on the plane and had to buy another. :-(
7) Resisting the siren call of ye Vysges Chocolates (so far). But without this coffee I'd undoubtedly be slumped unconscious in a corner.
1) Well, it was a beautiful day today, I heard - but I spent it indoors working on today's column (ridiculous) or avoiding working on today's column (typical). Still, it's done!
2) A day without Fycebykke is . . . is beautiful.
3) Next weekend is Bastille Day, the official halfway point of the summer. In some ways I feel like summer just has not started yet, and it's entirely my fault. For true summer, plans must be made in advance!
1) I dreamt that a colleague and I met Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Sussex in an airport in the Pacific Northwest, where we'd all gone for a photo shoot. The three of us were sitting outside in the rain (but not getting wet) on the stairs they wheel up to the plane. I asked her "Will your husband be joining you?" Later my colleague and I were walking about 20 feet behind the Duchess in a parking lot. The raindrops seemed to be falling in a beautiful rhythm. After I observed this to my colleague, it turned out the raindrops were white Christmas lights.
2) So, Independence Day. In the morning I welcomed two close friends to breakfast (it was the best time for us to meet). Sometimes there's nothing like dining room breakfast. And in the evening a friend in Faht Hill had a very small group over to his roofdeck, where we had splendid views of fireworks on three sides. Straight ahead through the trees, downtown Boston. To the left and across Tremont Street, Mission Hill. And to the right, practically under our noses, Faht Hill itself, where the neighbors must have cleaned out a dealer in New Hampshire. Beautiful all around - I remember some very special jewel-toned ones in red, blue, and orange - but some of them went off uncomfortable close to the ground.
2a) Seeing people waving sparklers reminded me of a forgotten incident when I was about 7, of stepping on a spent sparkler in our front yard with my bare foot. Yowch!
3) Home writing today, eager for this promised rainy, windy weather to begin!